Dark Matter
by HannahBananasxx
Summary: Change the past, save the future. It wasn't as simple as it seemed. A different lifetime, a different timeline. When variables and constants collide, you'll find a whole life altered in its course. A new beginning, a new meeting, and hopefully, a better end. Who knows what's in store when Quicksilver meets the Abyss. (Peter Maximoff/OC)
1. The Labour of Heracles

**_Chapter One - The Labour of Heracles_**

* * *

 **Ingolstadt, Germany, the near future.**

Rogue's voice rang loud and clear. "It's gonna blow!"

It was time. They had rigged the bomb, and it was going to send the sentinel manufacturing site crumbling to the ground, taking whomever and whatever down with it.

"Peter, take Blink; get the Alpha and Delta teams out!" he had heard his wife shouting at him from the catwalk high above. They had less than two minutes to clear the site before the whole goddamn place becomes nothing but a smoking crater. He didn't bother arguing, he knew that she was busy with her own task. Peter hated the plan, it was too damn dangerous, and it involved splitting up. He knew she could take care of herself, she always had, but he always disliked being apart from her. Though it had to be done, taking the site out would mean a large dent in sentinel production and would at least buy them several more months of safety. But it required a coordinated strike and would cost them a lot of lives, the sentinels were just adapting too fast, faster than their genetic mutations allowed.

Mutants were on the brink of extinction.

Peter Maximoff had made a lifestyle of running away from things, he liked to believe that he was just as fast now as he was in his prime. But he never could seem to run away from Zoe, his wife of over 20 years, not since the moment they met. He had just finished getting the last of Alpha team out and over to the rally point when a powerful blast sent him flying. It was followed by a massive dark energy field which blanketed the entire blast zone, containing it inside a bubble of its own.

NO!

For him, it happened too fast and unbearably slow at the same time. As much as he hoped he could race the blast, dread undeniably filled in his heart, it was the single most terrifying moment in his life. Because she had been at the epicentre of the chaos, she was the one who contained the field.

Peter sped back as fast as he could, penetrating the receding energy field he stumbled around the charcoal remains of the manufacturing plant. The survivors of Zoe's Beta team were reeling in shock; some rendered silent with tears in their eyes, a few collapsed to their knees sobbing with sheer hopelessness. Zoe was not with them, and her team merely stared into the smoking crater of the ruined building.

It was there that Peter found his wife in the middle of the rubble. Her powers had protected her from the blast, but she was not unscathed, a gaping hole punctured her abdomen, she lay there dying in a pool of her own blood. It despaired him to see the love of his life wasting away, and despite Rogue and the Beta team's protestations, he took his wife's body and ran. Peter ran aimlessly, knowing only that he had to get her out of there.

He ended up taking them into the middle of a dark forest, though he didn't know which, only stopping when he realised that he could only be making her injuries worse at this point. "Oh god, Zoe, baby, look at me. You're gonna be fine, we'll get you somewhere safe where you can heal yourself." He said, the tears springing easily from his eyes.

"C-can't." she answered, choking on the blood in her mouth. "...I don't have the energy for it."

"Stop, stop this okay? I need you."

"I adore you," she said. He tried shifting her to a more comfortable position, to staunch her bleeding with quick hands but it only seemed to pain her more. She made a grunt of excruciation.

Peter tried to calm her, stroking her hair, "Why? Did you see this happening? Why didn't you stop it - why didn't you tell me?" as he stared into her eyes he could see the light leaving them.

"I h-had to let it happen, baby. S-sorry." He found it cruel how she tried to smile now for his sake. He almost didn't notice that it had begun to snow, the January air sending flecks of it scattering in her hair.

"Why?" he sounded like a child. Indeed, he certainly felt just as powerless.

"W-we can't be selfish. Had to save everyone. Sentinels tried to get away. N-no other option. You w-would have stop-stopped me. More would have died." Zoe said, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek, she smiled.

"But you're mine." he started begging, "Don't go,"

"No tears, Pietro...Love you." she whispered, her voice growing quieter. He kissed her fiercely, he poured his love into it, praying that some way, it would be enough to heal her. She kissed him back...until she didn't. Her hand slipped away and her chest stopped moving.

"He wailed into her chest, rocking her body back and forth, clutching her hair as he tried to hold on to her as long as he possibly could. He was inconsolable when they finally had tracked them down, he still cradled her dead body in his arms. Rogue had tried to pry him away gingerly, but Peter just lashed out, lost in his grief. Pushing Rogue away, he carried his wife and disappeared for the last time.

Rogue had lost more than a friend and a mentor, Zoe was like a mother to her and so she mourned her in her own way. What she could not have known was that in hours, she will be captured, and the rest of the Beta team will be killed by a contingent of Sentinels.

It had all been in vain. Nothing had worked out as they hoped.

The following week, Charles Xavier informs his friend, Erik Lehnsherr of his son's death. They weep together, the war lost. That much they already knew. Despite how they tried to fight it, in all reality, they were doomed since Bolivar Trask and 1973.

It would take a Herculean labour to save their future.

* * *

 _"Better three hours too soon than a minute too late." - William Shakespeare_

* * *

 **/A/N:**

I blame Evan Peters and his beautiful face for making me obsessed with the Alternate Timeline X-Men Movies. That punk practically stole the show for Days of Future Past AND Age of Apocalypse.

In any case, this was a little prelude to what will become my X-Men fic so that's exciting. It should run throughout some of DoFP and AoA as well as what happens in between for some characters.

Have an opinion? I want to hear it. PM is always open for a chat, or leave a review if that floats your boat.

I do not own any characters you might recognise, they are the property of Marvel (and maybe Sony Pictures?). I do own my OC Zoe.

Many thanks! And happy fanfic hunting!

-HannahBananasxx

 **(edited 25/03/18)**


	2. Blast to the Past

**Chapter Two - Blast to the Past**

* * *

 _"You do this, you change history...Some of us could be killed. Some of us may never be born. We have no idea how things may change."_

 _…_

 _"You're asking us to sacrifice our lives, for a future we might not even be a part of."_

 _"A second chance. A better chance. For everyone."_

* * *

 **Westchester, New York, 1973.**

The young Hank McCoy unrolled a set of blueprints along the dark centre table; Logan huffed exasperatedly, shaking his head at his luck. It was as if fate was making it harder and harder for him to save them. The adamantium in his bones were gone, yet he had none of his memories as James Howlett; next to him, the Professor had given everything up to be an idle junkie; and Hank was less of a Beast and more of a domesticated lapdog.

 _How the hell am I supposed to break the most dangerous mutant out of his specially built prison (in the Pentagon no less) with these bums?_

Logan had nothing but respect for the Professor and his colleague, but these people...these people were barely even the mutants he knew. On one hand you have someone who is so without hope, he has resulted to ridding himself of his gifts; on the other, someone who's barely comfortable in their own shadow, denying their inner 'beast' (for the lack of a better term).

Hank had tried to show him how absurd the plan was,"The room they're holding him in was built during the Second World War... when there was a shortage of steel. So the foundation is pure concrete and sand. No metal." Hank pushed his glasses up his nose.

"He's being held... a hundred floors beneath the most heavily guarded building the planet." said Charles.

"Why is he in there?" Logan asked. He figured it was a pretty secure enough prison for someone like Erik, if not a bit ostentatious.

Hank and Charles shared a disbelieving look. "What, he forgot to mention?" Charles said.

Hank shuffled slightly, as he attempted to explajn, "Uh, JFK." to his side, he could hear his friend give a dry laugh.

Logan was taken aback by this new information. "He killed…" he couldn't even form the words in his mouth.

This younger version of Charles was starting to really unnerve him, with a cynical chuckle, he said, "What else explains a bullet miraculously curving through the air? Erik's always had a way with guns. Are you sure you want to carry on with this?"

Charles eyed him evenly, Logan was already resigned to the fact of yet another bullshit thing he has to deal with, "This is your plan, not mine."

To his left Hank spoke, "We don't have any resources to get us in."

"Or out," Charles rejoined, "It's just me and Hank."

Logan considered this for a moment. His older mind, drawn to a memory from several years back of a loving couple, now dead by the hands of merciless killing machines. He was fond of her husband, even fonder of the woman who had been his friend for as long as he could remember.

 _This_ , this was his chance, he could save them both from an untimely demise. Subconsciously nodding his head, he smiles. "I know a guy. Yeah, he'd be a young man now. Grew up outside of D.C. He could get into anywhere." he laughed, remembering the crazy stories they used to tell "I just don't know how the hell we're gonna find him."

Hank glances at Charles, "Is Cerebro of the question?" Charles only turned his eyes away.

"If only you guys had internet," Logan mused.

They both looked to him like he was crazy, "What's 'internet'?" Hank asked.

Logan merely sighed and shook his head.

"We have a phonebook." Hank said in a hopeful tone.

* * *

 **Washington, Virginia, the next day.**

They stopped at a normal looking house in the outskirts of D.C. As much as Logan liked seeing Charles have the use of his legs, he hated his poor driving skills, having almost hit a mailbox a couple of blocks back. "Here, here, here." Logan said impatiently.

"Where?"

"Just stop here."

"All right, all right." Charles resigned indulgently.

"Next time I'll drive, don't get used to it." Logan reminded him.

The house seemed modern enough, a normal average house among similar houses on a normal street. The weeds at the front yard were a tad unkempt, a bright blue car was parked in the driveway, the house was bricked in white stone.

They get out of the car and walk over to the front door. The word 'MAXIMOFF' read on the black mailbox.

Logan raps his knuckles quickly at the door, knocking twice. Hank plasters a friendly smile as a woman a few years their senior answers the door. She was pretty, with large worried eyes and a long mane of hair. The matriarch of the family, Magda Maximoff, sighs audibly, "What's he done now?" she asks briskly. Logan and Hank gave amused looks to one another. "I'll just write you a check for whatever he took,"

Logan smiles wryly, "We just need to talk to him."

The woman nods and lets them enter behind her. She turns to call over her shoulder in a tired tone, "Peter! The cops are here. Again." Seeing her expression questioned a lot of what he believed Peter to be. _Did she just say that the cops were visiting: AGAIN?_

When Peter and Logan first met in his own timeline, the man was a reformed member of the Brotherhood, more serious and subdued, yet still filled with a joy for life. Zoe first introduced the two, Logan had just come back from an extended mission to find the woman quite attached at the hip with her new friend. Apparently, Pietro Maximoff had suddenly just had a change of heart about the Brotherhood after an incident during a diplomatic assignment involving Zoe herself. He was apprehensive towards Peter at first, but watching the way he treated Zoe dismissed most of his fears in a day. Peter looked at her if she was nothing short of miraculous.

* * *

 _Zoe had greeted him in the foyer with a warm smile, her voice was patient and friendly, "Logan, this is Peter. He's here to stay." He held a cautious eye to the man who followed close behind her._

" _For how long?" Logan readjusted the rucksack slung over his shoulder and puffed at the cigar he held between his teeth._

 _"For as long as I can," the Brotherhood reformist began, There was a glint in his eye as he answered, "I've found something good here. I'm not ready to let it go."_

* * *

Bringing up the back, Charles notes the skid marks which ruined the welcome mat of the threshold. Magda sits back to watch her show on the couch, not bothering to give them a second look, this must have been commonplace already for her. They pass by a little girl in a plastic tiara, she held a wand in one hand and peered at the adults curiously. She quickly gets Logan's attention. "I'm a princess. What are you?" she asks.

Logan takes off his sunglasses to get a better look at the girl, she must be Peter's younger sister, Lorna, obviously before her mutation manifested itself. "I'm the Wolverine." he answers her plainly. "Where's your brother?"

Lorna points to the basement with a "KEEP OUT" sign posted on the door.

"Go upstairs and bug your sister." Magda tells Lorna.

"But she bugs me!" Lorna protests as her mother shoos her away.

Heading to the basement, they hear the thrum of music playing and the sound of a ping pong ball being hit back and forth. They descend slowly in awe of the teen playing a seemingly normal game of ping pong. Against himself. The teen appearing at both ends of the table.

"What do you guys want?" the silver haired teen asked, undistracted from his game, "I didn't do anything," He suddenly seems to disappear in the middle of the rally, only to reappear on the couch behind them, feet on the coffee table, hands behind his head. "I've been here all day."

Logan tried to quickly handle the situation, "Just relax, Peter. We're not Cops."

Peter's eyes narrow, "Of course you're not cops." he answered, "If you were cops, you wouldn't be driving a rental car."

"How did you know we've got a rental car?" Charles just managed to query before the teen cut him off.

"I checked your registration when you were walking to the door." Logan quickly looked to Hank and Charles who were both focused on the youth. "I also had some time to kill so I went through your rental agreement. Saw you were from out of town. Are you FBI?"

Before they could even blink, Peter had zipped past them, snatching Charles' wallet from his back pocket, inspecting the contents inside. "No, you're not cops. Hey, what's with his gifted youngsters place?" he comments, looking at a worn card before letting the card and the wallet fall to the floor.

"That's an old card." Charles replies, impressed by his speed, though annoyed by the thievery.

"He's fascinating." Hank remarks.

"He's a pain in the arse." Charles corrects with irritation.

"What, a teleporter?" Hank asks Logan.

"No, he's just fast. And when I knew him he wasn't so... young." he says gruffly.

"Young? You're just old." Peter says from behind them, sitting back on the couch once more, this time with an almost finished popsicle, one which he goes back to eating.

"So you're not afraid to show your powers?" Hank posed.

The teen crinkles his face in a perfect expression of confusion, one which must have been practised. "Powers? What powers? What're you talking about?" Charles and Hank looked surprised, "Do you see something strange here? Nothing anybody would believe if you told them." Peter replied with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. It was shouting at them in challenge.

Logan just looked at him and the next moment he appeared in front of his Pong arcade game which he immediately begins to play. "So, who are you? What do you want?" Peter asked, already bored of the conversation.

"We need your help, Peter."

"With what?"

"To break into a highly secured facility... and to get someone out." Logan said, hands on his hips.

"Prison break? That's illegal, you know." Peter called with an amused voice.

"Er," Logan begins, he, Charles and Hank finally taking in their surroundings. Either the kid developed a separate mutation of pulling paraphernalia out of his ass or all of it was blatantly stolen, Logan thought as he eyed the Hostess cakes which lined the shelves, the hamper of bowling balls, the parking meter in the corner, the traffic sign on the wall, a row of TVs which still had their "FOR SALE" stickers on them... "Well, only if you get caught." he said dryly.

"So, what's in it for me?"

Charles began to rub at his eyes, sunglasses in hand. "You, you kleptomaniac, get to break into the Pentagon." He felt an aneurysm coming on from all this stress.

Peter immediately stops and turns to look at them, properly interested. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Because we're just like you." Logan quipped.

Peter eyed them suspiciously, "Show him." Charles said.

Logan stares him down as he raises his hand and begins to extend his claws, the sound of bone tearing flesh startled and mildly paled Peter.

Peter nodded, his lip twisting. "That's cool, but it's disgusting."

Logan almost felt sorry for his friend who was supposed to marry him. Almost. When they broke the news of their engagement to them at the mansion, Logan was the first they told. He could still see her in his mind, she wore a dazzling smile as she showed of the impressive engagement ring (which was actually bought) on her finger, Peter had his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek softly. They were both ecstatic as he shook Peter's hand and they both came to hug him. This was before the war of course, it was one of his more happier memories, one which he used to remind himself to keep fighting. "We got no time to lose, kid."

* * *

 _"Let us accept our own responsibility for the future." - John F. Kennedy_

* * *

 **/A/N:**

I thought I'd share another chapter to get the ball rolling, hopefully, I have you intrigued.

I will say that I recently watched the Rogue Extended Cut of Days of Future Past. While it did not change any main points, it did allow for longer screen time for some characters and I really enjoyed it as it tried to develop them a bit more.

To my reviewers, thank you. Though you are few, it really made me happy to get a response so I dedicate this update for you. :)

 **Nevernot9180** : I'm glad you like the story, opening on a sad note I thought really set a tone for the bleakness of their timeline. Maybe in the later chapters we'll see it evolve into a happier story to reflect that change in course.

 **anonymouscsifan (guest)** : Hope you like this new update, I am curious to see where my fic will go. So far, nothing has been set in stone.

Have an opinion? I want to hear it. PM is always open for a chat, or leave a review if that floats your boat.

I do not own any characters you might recognise, they are the property of Marvel (and maybe Sony Pictures?). I do own my OC Zoe.

Many thanks! And happy fanfic hunting!

-HannahBananasxx


	3. Prison Break

**Chapter Three - Prison Break**

* * *

 **The Pentagon, Washington D.C, Virginia, later that day.**

It was supposed to be a quick-in-and-out, hopefully with minimal amount of bloodshed. The most secure prison in the world...Peter was up for a little challenge. He had to admit, it was a good day to commit a major crime.

The tour guide continued to prattle on, "Built in 1943, the Pentagon is the world's largest office building...housing more than 25, 000 military employees... stretched out over six million square feet…"

It was easy for Logan and Charles to give the tour group the slip, it wasn't exactly as if they were on high alert for a couple of unarmed guys trying to break-out their most wanted prisoner. Hank remained with the tour group waiting until the next part of their plan.

In the surveillance room, something was jamming their camera signal feed, broadcasting instead some inane TV show.

* * *

Peter zips past the kitchen and sneaks his way into the elevator behind the armed guard carrying a plastic tray of food. He bats the guard's hat off of his head, after the man picks it up and places it back on, it was already too late. The guard barely registers the boy who grins and moves inhumanly fast as he worked to duct-tape him against the elevator wall, then proceeded to wear his uniform.

Peter, now in disguise, carries the tray out to bring to the prisoner, passing by a narrow hallway lined with guardsmen who looked bored but dutifully resolute.

As Peter enters the antechamber he sees not one, but two cells adjoining each other, sunk below the room, the first, holding a disinterested looking figure. _This must be Magneto._

The second, was strapped to a cold marble table, her limbs held down, she looked fast asleep, an IV continuously dripping beside her. She was irrelevant, however, he came for the man, who knows what kind of whackjob the second prisoner was to get herself remanded here.

 _Then again, this Magneto guy was probably a crazy old coot too._

Peter slides the tray of food down a chute, making it's way to the first prisoner. Strangely, Erik finds a note stuck inside the unappetising tray. "MIND THE GLASS", it read, garnering his prison guard an odd look. He's certainly never seen him before.

His guard just beams back innocently.

 _Well, this is new._ Prisoner One had thought.

A second later the unnamed guard crouches, putting his hands firmly on the glass. His hands seeming to vibrate at supersonic speed while his body is held in place. The glass continues to vibrate quickly until the guard smiles knowingly as it shatter to pieces. Erik just had time to duck before the shards fell around him.

Though not having seen action in some number of years, Erik, that is, Prisoner One, makes quick work of climbing out of his hole, as the alarm sounds. In a commanding voice he points to the cell next to him. "Her too." he says.

Peter flinches. "They told me to get _you_."

"Her _too._ " he repeats in an uncompromising tone, staring the other male down.

Peter sighs, "Ah, hell. I guess since I'm already here." _Why not?_ A thought inside him whispered. Peter destroyed the glass in the second cell too, jumped down and unstrapped the second prisoner from the table. She was out cold.

 _Woah_. On closer inspection he noticed that the second prisoner looked about his age, just a girl. It could have easily been someone like Wanda strapped onto that table. Inside him grew a swell of pity and a rapidly building protective intict. But _damn_ , she was a babe. The girl had long dark hair that hung pin straight, her bangs ended just below her brows and her eyelashes fanned down her freckle covered nose and cheeks. She wore a grey jumpsuit, the very same Magneto wore, the numbers: 0002 stitched stitched to the breast. He slung her over his shoulder as he climbed out.

Magneto took him from her and into his arms. "In three seconds, those doors are going to open... and 20 guards be here to shoot us."

The man sped right behind him, a warm hand placed at the base of his neck. "I know. That's what I'm waiting for."

"What are you doing?" Erik asked.

" _I'mholdingyournecksoyoudon'tgetwhiplash_." he replied quickly, " _Heytuckherheadinwillyou?"_

"What?" Erik said.

"Whiiiipplaaaash." the speedster repeated slowly. "We'll be moving veeery fast so you need to make sure to tuck your heads in! You really do."

Erik did as he was told, silently readjusting his hold on the sleeping female.

The cell door opens, the guards blocking their only way out, guns poised, ready to kill. "Don't move!" an officer yells.

Gripping tightly onto Erik, Peter speeds past between the armed guards in a split-second, leaving twenty unconscious officers in their wake. They step inside the elevator where Erik props the still-unconscious girl unto the corner of the wall, he braces himself for a second, nauseous.

Erik turns to the guard beside him only to find him already having changed clothes. As he suspected, the guard was not a guard, after all. What does shock him is realising he was a boy. A teenager, really, in a silver metallic jacket with two combination locks stuck to the lapels and he wore Pink Floyd shirt. A set of goggles was perched on his head. The boy checked the time, meeting his eyes casually as Erik tried to regain his footing.

His mutation was a useful one, Erik had to noted.

The boy pulled a sympathetic face. "You're good, it'll pass, it happens to everyone." the boy beside him comments as he eyes the girl in the corner. "You must've done something serious. What'd you do? What'd you do? C'mon, what you dooooooo? Why did they have you in there?"

Erik figured that the kid would never shut up until he gave an answer. "For killing the President."

"Oh… wow." Peter remarks, mouthing an astounded _"Shit!"_ quietly to the duct-taped guard, who concurs with his shock by the raising of his brows.

"If there's one thing I'm guilty of, it's fighting for people like us." Erik concludes, ignoring his antics. Peter didn't quite know what to make of that.

"You take karate? You know karate, man?" He eggs.

"I don't know karate. But I know crazy."

The boy next to him laughs. "They told me you could control metal."

" _They?_ "

After a beat, Peter talks again, recalling a memory, "You know, my mom once knew a guy who could do that."

 _Dear God._ A wave of panic hits Erik, but he buries it in rigid denial. _No time for it now._

They soon arrive at their floor, the elevator dinging. They hear a voice from the other side, "I'm sorry, I'm just not very good with violence…" The doors slid open to reveal Charles talking to Logan.

Peter smiles proudly to bring them their prisoner-er, _prisoners_. Recognition hits both Charles and Erik, "Charles?" Erik asks.

Bu karma hits back, in the form of an angry Charles Xavier socking Erik Lehnsherr square on the jaw. Erik drops on the floor and Charles promptly does as well, tripping over the legs of a figure in the corner. "The _hell?_ "

Erik nurse his lip, "Good to see you too, old friend. And walking."

Charles gets up from where he tripped, "No thanks to you."

It was then that Logan focuses on a figure in the elevator, " _Zoe?_ " he breaths in utter shock. Peter had defensively put himself next to her, tensing, though not knowing why. Logan just ignored him before scooping her up into his arms protectively. "So this is where they kept you for all this time...Those pricks." he muttered to himself.

"You know her?" Erik asks the stranger incredulously.

"Better than you think." Logan counters with a worried look. Peter backs down and continues to stand awkwardly to the side next to the immobile guard who was somewhat growing on him.

* * *

 _He had a cigar in his mouth, his hat, perched over his eyes to block out the sun. James felt the air move around him and smelt the woman before she even sat down across his table._

 _"So," she points out, her voice was even. "You're The Wolverine. They talk so much about you."_

 _"Yeah, well, when you travel a lot in the same circles, it's not hard to make a name for yourself, 'Abyss'." It appears he has heard of her too, then._

 _She met his eyes coolly. With her kill count, he would have to watch his back. She wasn't someone you'd want to get on the bad side of._

 _Abyss, or whatever she was called, smiled tightly. "Still, we might as well be civil, after all, you're my new partner." she leans back on the bench, crossing her arms over her chest, she looked young for her age. Then again, mutants were never as they seemed._

 _She was his new partner? He suddenly wonders what the hell Stryker was thinking putting them together. "Uh huh, no sweat off my back, sister." He wasn't the type to be intimidated. Usually he was the one doing the intimidating._

 _The woman before him extended a gloved hand, "Zoe Kinney,"_

 _He takes the fat cigar from his teeth, holding it in his fingers, gauging her for the shortest while. **Alright** , he thinks, **Le** **t's see how this goes**. "James Howlett." He replies, shaking the proffered limb. __"How long have you been here?"_

 _"Awhile now."_

 _"And what did you do, before all this?" he says, a hand gesturing vaguely._

 _She paused for some time, "...I don't know, actually. 'This' is actually the only place I've ever known. There's some childhood bullshit in there somewhere, probably, but it's vague."_

 _"You don't remember anything from before?"_

 _"No, you?" Zoe asks, cocking her head to the side._

 _"More than I'd care to." he says, growing quiet._

 _Zoe sighs, "Probably better I'm this way. Then I can't hurt anybody but myself."_

 _"Or who they want you to." James finished for her._

* * *

"You're the last person in the world I expected to see today." Erik says, turning to Charles.

"Believe me... I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to. If we get you out of here, we do it my way. No killing." he reminds adamantly.

Erik points to his head, "No helmet. I couldn't disobey you even if I wanted."

"I'm never getting inside of that head again. I need your word, Erik." he says to his former friend who nods.

In the next moment, more guards burst through the kitchens, surrounding them. Nobody move! Hold it right there!"

"Charles." Erik says.

"Don't move. Hands up, or we will shoot!" another officer threatens.

Logan's hold tightens on the girl in his arms, his expression ferocious.

Erik continues to address the man next to him, "Freeze them, Charles."

"I can't." was the only answer he gets.

"Hands up!" voices the third guard.

Erik grimly looks back to the six armed guards before them and the industrial sized kitchen they were in, filled with all assortments of metal utensils, pots and pans. The metal begins to clatter, his manipulation taking hold. The guards notice this and opens a barrage of weapon-fire.

As Erik begins his assault by turning all metal towards the men, Charles shoves him back, " _NO!_ " he shouts. At the same time, Logan tries to turn his body away as to shield the girl in his arms, his bone claws extending.

What none of them factored in, was Peter. And so, they were all too unaware of the boy who quick as a flash - dons on his headphones before incapacitating the whole room of Pentagon Security forces. Peter smiles widely, admiring his handiwork; he was very proud, and placing a Pentagon cap more firmly on his head. _Yes, he liked showing off. As if it wasn't clear already._

They exit the kitchen, Logan gripping his shoulder with one hand, the other still carrying Prisoner 0002. "Thanks, kid." he says, impressed with the spectacle he pulled off.

Peter nods slightly as he follows after them, the sprinklers not doing a whole lot of wonders to his equipment. _That was fun,_ he thinks... _If only the whole thing lasted more than seven minutes_. They regroup with Hank outside who was already running their get-away car. It was going to be a long drive to the airport. There was some serious explaining to do.

* * *

The car was crowded, Hank was at the wheel, Logan and Charles at the front beside him. In the back, the mystery passenger lay unconscious, sandwiched between Erik who had placed a concerned hand on her neck to check her pulse, and Peter who seemed intent on watching every move concerning the girl.

Logan was watching in the rear-view mirror, secretly glad to see that even now, in a different time, and a completely different life for them all, Peter and Zoe continued to be inexplicably drawn to each other. He hopes to keep this alternate timeline whole, praying to whatever god that they don't screw up.

"Concerned for my friend there, bub?" Logan questioned who he had considered to be a long-time adversary, twisting his body to face the back seat.

Erik met his look darkly, removing his fingers from her pulse. Satisfied of her stable condition. "They brought her in about three years ago. I don't know her very well, they never really leave her awake for very long for me to get to know her any better." Erik divulged, sighing tiredly. "They experimented on the both of us, you know, more her than me, they don't know the full extent of her powers yet and were to afraid to push. When they finish with their tests they make me take care of her, feed her at times, they always keep her so sedated so she doesn't fight. They shock her otherwise, or threaten her, then they started threatening me when they realised that I've befriended her...Now, I've been resigned to the fact that I had to be held responsible for my actions for Cuba, for Kennedy...but she's just a child. I doubt she's deserved any of this."

Logan nodded, content with his words. "She never did."

Peter, meanwhile, was purposefully distracting himself by looking outside the window, pretending to be bored.

Logan rubbed Zoe's hand until she began to stir, mumbling incoherently. The drugs were wearing off.

She groaned once or twice. Before jolting awake, suddenly, a dark energy began to cocoon her, she looked ready to tear someone apart.

"Jesus!" Peter exclaimed beside her.

A type of polarity was surrounding her, dark spots of energy almost sucking away the oxygen around them. It sent the vehicle spinning out of control.

They were barrelling into oncoming traffic.

* * *

 _"Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind." - Nathaniel Hawthorne_

* * *

/A/N:

I know, I know, it's a cliffhanger. But it grabs attention, don't you think? So Erik and Zoe are out of their cage now, things should be revealed soon. Actually, the next chapter. I've written chapter four, but not chapter five so I think I will write that before I publish the next chapter. I'm not really sure what's happening next, your guess is as good as mine. But if you have any suggestions, I'll certainly consider it.

To my reviewers:

 **x XRoweenaJAugustineX x** :Thanks! You're too sweet. I'm glad you like my story, honestly seeing so many people pleased with it is s rewarding. I've kind of developed a habit checking my email at all times of the day for new favourites or follows or reviews. I hope I don't disappoint; as always, this chapter is for you, the people who enjoy reading as much as I do and consume as much fanfic as I do. :) You've made my day just by reviewing.

 **anonymouscsifan:** I always feel like watching the extended editions are just the best treat, because you're getting so much more of the story and it's a lot more richer. I always try and watch alternate or deleted scenes too, I've been guilty of watching and re-watching the special features of a lot of films. All my copies of Lord of the Rings are extended versions and when I watched it on TV I was confused as to why a lot of pars were skipped until I realised those extra scenes were cut for the theatrical version.

Have an opinion? I want to hear it. PM is always open for a chat, or leave a review if that floats your boat.

I do not own any characters you might recognise, they are the property of Marvel (and maybe Sony Pictures?). I do own my OC Zoe.

Many thanks! And happy fanfic hunting!

-HannahBananasxx


	4. The Once and Future Queen

**Chapter Four - The Once and Future Queen**

* * *

Her powers certainly would have killed them, and were it not for Hank's reflexes that pulled the car to a stop, they would have crashed in the open road. A large semi blared its horn as it hurtled past them.

Manipulating the metal buckles, Erik lashed her down firmly with the car's seatbelts. It wasn't tight as to hurt her, but it was enough to just restrain her to be able to focus and calm down.

Logan and Erik immediately begun to pacify her, and while she didn't recognise Logan's hushing (which if he were honest, stung quite a bit), she visibly relaxed when she identified Erik who held her shoulders. "Calm yourself, little one." Erik murmured.

At once, the power that surrounded her receded, seeming to dissipate in the very air around them. "Prisoner One?" she said.

"Erik," he provided. "We're outside. They're gone."

"How?" she asked, her voice small.

"Zoe." another man said, calling her attention. He was seated in front of her, his sideburns dark and scratchy looking.

"You know my name?" her brows bunched together, to her right and left, Erik and Peter were also intrigued. Peter, on her left tried to give a wide berth between them.

The man took a deep breath, "Zoe Kinney. My name is Logan. These are my friends, Hank, Charles, Peter and Erik. You don't know me right now, but trust me when I say you're safe."

"Why would I trust you?"

"Because we're friends, or...we will be." He felt Erik's eyes bore into him, "Point is, you're one of us and we're not here to hurt you, okay?"

The girl eyed him skeptically, her lip curling.

"You were born July 28, 1958 in Stanford, California. Your earliest childhood memory was of your dog, Buster; when your dad was still alive, he would read you T.H. White, he and your mom would dance with you, playing Louis Armstrong all day. I'm not another government spook." he enunciated. The girl was rendered speechless, her eyes becoming wide, "Believe me, they...they can't hurt you anymore. You're safe now..."

The young girl had tears in her eyes, her head bobbing up and down numbly in acknowledgement. She didn't understand how he could possibly know all those things about her, she barely knew half of it herself, but Zoe could tell that he wasn't lying.

"Okay." She swallowed. Beside her, Prisoner One unwound her binds without lifting a finger.

It was the first time she's seen the sun in years. Her last memory of the outside world was watching men with guns kill her mother and steal her away. All at once she felt a surging feeling of relief, guilt and anxiety. Relief, to escape from her prison, her captors and the scientists who tried to understand what she was; guilty for being the reason her mother was dead; and anxious of her new predicament.

Zoe jumped when Hank started the car once more but forced her breathing to slow. She was still understandably quite tense during their trip, though she soon began to be engaged with her surroundings.

"Where are we?" she asks Erik to her right.

"Washington."

The girl looked down at her hands, she was slightly embarrassed for lashing out. They didn't even seem to be freaked out by her mutant abilities, just more or less preoccupied with something. Exactly what, she didn't know, but it appeared to be important.

They were mostly quiet for the rest of the ride, Erik and Charles seemed perfectly content in ignoring each other and Hank had turned on the radio.

The girl turned to face a boy who looked close to her age, he had been staring for the past two minutes. "Do I have something on my face?"

"You're hot." He blurted, then froze. Panic sinking in his eyes as he cleared his throat, "I mean, you, you must be hot. Lemme-uh, I'mma crack open this window right here for you." he said, turning red from his neck to the roots of his silver locks. To her other side, Prisoner One groaned.

It was her turn to stare at the silver haired teen as he cranked the window open and turned his face away towards the scenery, puffing his cheeks out when he blew his breath."So you're uh, freckles...you have them. They're nice." He said casually.

He was relieved when she found her voice. "Um, thanks." Zoe acknowledged, smiling bashfully, her eyes turning downwards, "Your hair's pretty cool."

"Glad you think so...otherwise I would have had to shave it all off if a pretty girl like you called me out on it." Maximoff said as he faked arrogance. His finger scratching along the vinyl of his seat.

The 'pretty girl' giggled quietly before catching herself. She bit her lip and rolled her eyes, intent on focusing on the road ahead.

"I'm Peter."

"Zoe."

Unbeknown to them, The Wolverine was smiling to himself about the exchange. It was a whole lot cheesy, the kids were such saps that way. But he had to hand it to the boy, she warmed up to him quite fast. He didn't know if he should have felt relieved or concerned.

They had already changed so many things. What would happen now that Zoe and Peter were forced to meet about thirty years too soon? What about him? What would happen to him now that he wouldn't have Zoe with him in Stryker's lab? They wouldn't have the same memories together, perhaps they would never be friends. Logan wasn't prepared to lose one of the people he was most closest to… _I can't be selfish. Change the past, live the better future. It was for the better,_ he thought. _For the better._

* * *

 _It was the first time Zoe and Logan had been alone since Peter came into Xavier's._

 _They were walking the grounds, a casual stroll. Zoe said the air was good for him. "Saves you having to give the kids cancer from your second-hand smoke." she mentioned._

 _They were quiet for the first minute or so, happy enough just to feel the summer breeze wafting into Westchester. Distantly, they heard the kids running around on the lawn, water guns in hand. A kid named Billy was pushed into the fountain by two of his buddies, they were laughing without a care in the world. Just like they should._

 _Logan was lighting another cigar. "You trust him?" he asks._

 _She didn't need to question whom it was that Logan referred to, she knew. "I do. I trust Peter."_ She walked like she always did, with her hands held behind her back.

 _"Sure? It's not just us anymore, Zo. There's the kids, our kids, our school."_

 _"I know. Believe me, I do. Peter is good, Logan."_

 _Logan gave her a skeptical look, "Why? After everything his dear ol' dad did, he could be just like him."_

 _Zoe had a sad smile on her lips, "If we were gonna be judged by the sins of our fathers...our grandfathers, then you'll have a lot more people than Peter to worry about. No one would be innocent by birth alone."_

 _"But how do you know?" Zoe couldn't blame Logan, they had been fighting Magneto on and off for so long, they never knew where he truly allied himself._

 _"Because," she says, a sweet smile on her face, "Because I can see myself in him...We were both under someone else's control for more years than we had to ourselves, but it doesn't stop him from trying to live the life he deserves. And when he looks at me - like I've always wanted to be looked at - I think he sees that too."_

 _Logan had never brought up any issues of trust against Peter after that. If Zoe was so convinced, if he was good enough for her, then he's good enough. Period. If anything was to rival the woman's growing feelings for her new 'friend' it would have been her loyalty to her students, to her family. Zoe wouldn't dare to gamble with that._

* * *

They soon arrived at the airport, there was a small plane waiting for them already, the place looked fairly empty. The six of them shuffled out of the car.

"This is where we leave you two." Charles says, turning to the kids and shaking their hands. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Peter, Zoe." Beside him, Hank waved amiably. "I hope to meet you both again one day, under better circumstances."

Zoe's eyes widen in alarm, she was breathless, "You're leaving?"

Erik and Logan turned to her distress. Erik just frowned and Logan steered her away to the side, the walked some steps out of earshot, his arm around her shoulders, their heads ducked in quiet counsel. "Sorry, kid. We got a job to do."

She was at a loss for words, "I...I don't know what to do," she confessed, "I don't know where I am, or who I am. They took that away from me. I'm lost, Logan." She looked panicked, "You said I could trust you."

The thing adults had to know was that kids hated it when you tried to talk down to them, better to just give it to them clear and straight. It was why some young kids actually chose to seek out Logan when he was teaching. Despite his gruff demeanour, they could tell he never lied, and he made it a policy not to; and they looked up to him for it. Logan made sure they couldn't be heard, this was a private conversation and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to take his sweet time talking to a friend he hasn't seen in years. He tried to appreciate it as much as it lasted. It may well be the last they would have in decades - if everything goes to plan. "Look, Zoe. This is gonna sound absolute batshit but just gimme a chance, okay?"

Zoe nodded.

"I'm not from here, I was sent from the future."

At the moment, the brunette looked half-confused, half-terrified. "The...future?"

His expression remained deadpanned, she couldn't quite believe herself buying his story, but had a feeling it was probably all true. "I was sent back so I can change the future and stop a war. Trask and his Sentinels will bring about mutant extinction if we don't stop him. That's what we're trying to do. But I can't in good conscience bring you with me. As much as I want to, I have the responsibility of keeping you safe. Peter can give that to you, and when all this is over, you'll have a place at Xavier's School." Logan handed her a card he swiped from Charles' wallet.

The man tried to give her a reassuring smile, though it only seemed to distress her further. This Zoe was young and fragile, like an exposed wound, the Zoe he knew was a hardened scar. He didn't know the woman that was, only a possibility of the woman she could become. She was not the same, he couldn't comfort her the same, and yet, she trusted him. Like a cub beginning to imprint itself.

Her fingers were stiff as she took it, rubbing the card with her thumb. She was lost in a memory, her brown eyes were turning an opaque colour of milk seeping from pupil, to iris and finally blending with the whites of her eyes; "When I was in my cell, I had a dream. I dreamt of meeting you for the first time in a canteen with green walls. I dreamt of a school that I made my home. I dreamt that I died trying to save my team, that I...passed away in the arms of someone I loved."

It was hard for Logan to swallow, the more she talked, the more he relived the future he dreaded so much. She began speaking once more, her eyes returning back to normal, "But you see, I don't think it was a dream. I think it was a possibility, futures competing against one another. It's hard to look at you, I can see past, present and future colliding around you, bending, warping..." she grasped his arm tighter, "I will know you, Logan. Just not in the way you remember. I do believe we'll see each other again, that's a certainty." She smiled, then threw her arms around his neck in a grateful squeeze. "You've saved me already. You sent me a friend."

He returned her hug, it seemed easier now to say goodbye. "Stay with Peter, he's uh...less of an ass once you get to know him. You can thank me later." She'll have more years with Peter now, and if he can help it, he'll meet her again. "Hey kid, when a bum with my mug walks into your school in say, 27 years time...befriend him?"

Zoe smiled more, her eyes returning to their original colour, tears brimming again. "You got it, big guy."

They headed now to where the rest were waiting, his hand on her shoulder. "I'll be dragging around a young looking girl who's a lot like you. She'll call herself Rogue, but her name's Anne Marie, she'll love you. Don't forget us, you hear?"

"Never." It felt like one of those moments, the ones she could tell she'd never forget. She would remember Logan's broad back as he retreated and his misty eyed farewell; the way the plane engine sounded as Hank started it confidently and with ease. She would commit to memory the way Charles and Erik glowered at each other with a million words unspoken and the fashion in which her silver haired friend was looking at her despite trying not to. Someone had to remember all these new histories.

With that, Logan walked away, she swore she could hear him sniffling as he said something to Peter in passing, clapped him on the shoulder, then climbed into the jet.

Erik trailed behind, the Polish-Jew hesitating. He wasn't much for goodbyes. "Take care of yourself, oh-Two."

"Don't lose yourself, oh-One." she counters with a small wave.

* * *

 _They had returned to the house in good spirits, their paths separating as Logan went to go have a talk with the Professor and Zoe padding off to the small study in the west wing where Peter had been waiting for her._

 _He had sat in an alcove by a circular window, his silver hair falling to his forehead as he bent over a thin volume. His eyes flickered to her before going back to his page. "How was your chat?"_

 _"Fine." she said coyly, making her way to the crystal decanter of brandy and a glass that lay unused on the table at Peter's side. She poured a drink for herself and drank quickly, taking it in one gulp._

 _He closed his book, his head angling to one side. "Should I be worried about a wolverine being set loose on a innocent, defenceless man?"_

 _"You're far from innocent, or defenceless, Maximoff."_

 _"Maybe I just need a strong protector from the Big Bad." he said, batting his dark eyes. It was a priceless look, coming from a middle-aged man._

 _Zoe just smiled and flipped her hair back, pouring more brandy into her glass. Peter had chucked his book behind him as she sat herself down on the seat next to his cushion, her feet folding underneath her. She pressed her glass to his lips, Peter taking it wordlessly. He tried to read her as much as she tried to read him._

 _"Oh, don't worry," she says teasingly, leaning close, "I will."_

* * *

The plane ride itself was smooth, Logan was thankful Hank had always been good with handling aircrafts, but it did not completely alleviate the tension he always had with flying, nor did it prevent him from worrying about the friend he left behind with a hormonal teenage boy.

"Where did they dig you up?" Erik addressed him nonchalantly.

Logan leaned across the table, "You're gonna find this hard to believe... but, uh, you sent me. You and Charles. From the future." That certainly caught the metal manipulator's attention. After Logan explained his mission to Erik, he was sent another wave of questions.

"You know, Logan, I'm surprised you left her with Peter. I thought for sure you'd take her with us. How do you know the girl?" Erik began to address him in a weary tone.

"Zoe." Logan corrected.

"How do you know Zoe?"

Logan lit a cigar, paying no heed to the 'NO SMOKING' sign on the wall. He took a breath before starting,"In my future, I work for a man named Stryker for a while, when I was recruited, she was already on the team. They had her longer though, and I never knew where they got her from until today. She was my best friend. The kind that put up with your shit and had your back." _The best kind._ He wanted to add, "Got sent on missions together, worked fine for a couple of years. But what we didn't know was Stryker's next phase, which involved more genetic experiments on people like us to force evolve mutations and make better soldiers." He knew he shouldn't dwell. It was all behind him now. _Was it? Is it? "_ They wiped our memories, turned us into animals. Soon after, we escape together, killed practically everyone on the base." _At least it had a happy ending (while it lasted)._ "We found ourselves at Chuck's," he said, trying to meetthe Professor's gaze, tried to express how much they needed him now, and in the future. "It took a long time before we recovered our memories, but hadn't left since."

"What else do you know?" Charles asked, fascinated by the story, "I can't help but feel you're trying to hide something. What aren't you telling us?"

* * *

They watch as the plane takes off, hands to their foreheads to shield their eyes from the sun. The two teenagers lean against their rental car, the keys to which, jangle in Peter's hands as he twirls it. He opens the car door for her and piles in after with his super speed.

They were driving in companionable silence for a good few minutes until Peter anxiously spoke, "You know, I was thinking-"

"Yes?" she says, cutting him off.

Peter meets her happy eyes and blushes again, "I was thinking, since I broke you out of prison and all, that maybe you'd like to stay with me? Logan might have mentioned you didn't have a place to stay."

The girl was stunned, "I mean, would that be okay? He said that I would have a place in Charles' school after everything blows over…"

"My mom has a lot of experience, she raised three kids and two of them are mutants. So I don't think you'd be a bother. She's a natural mother hen, she won't be able to help herself from taking in someone that needs it. Her name's Magda, she'll like you, promise."

The girl played with a loose thread in her jumpsuit. "You're sure?"

"Positive." he replies, "Though we'll have to return the car first. Hope you don't mind me running us back."

* * *

Logan heaved a heavy sigh, "The girl you met, will be one of the most powerful mutants you'll ever come across. Lay a finger on her and I wouldn't have to kill you myself, she'll be the one to do it. Her powers are volatile at best, and she won't have full control yet. I don't know how her powers will develop now that she won't be forced to work for Stryker, but maybe if you teach her...who can say?" he tells Charles, "More than that...I know she has a history with a very touchy subject of yours."

"And which sensitive subject might that be?" Erik tested.

"Sebastian Shaw." at his reply, a dark look flashed across Erik's face. Hate simmering at the surface.

"Then why leave such a precious commodity with young Peter? If she's as dangerous as you say." he spat.

"Because I know she'll be safe with him, and until Charles reopens the school, it's the best place for her to be with other kids. With her powers, any threat that they'll come across, Zoe or Peter can take care of it. Apart from me, or Chuck, he and his twin sister always knew how to help her."

Erik grew impatient,"What does this have to do with Shaw?"

"She's Shaw's granddaughter."

Erik nearly jumped a foot, "Shaw has a granddaughter?" her shook his head in regret, he chuckled grimly, "I should have left her in that cell."

"Now, don't get your panties in a bunch, bub. You think you're Shaw's only victim? "

Erik stood up, his blue eyes positively piercing. "Sebastian Shaw deserves more than one lifetime of suffering. He made sure of that when he experimented on and tortured my people."

Logan ignored him, "Sebastian Shaw married Elise Kappel in 1927, their daughter, Laura Kappel was born in 1934. The Shaws separated in 1939, Elise took Laura and migrated to the United States in Stanford, California. Elise couldn't live with herself, knowing about her husband's work with the Nazis. The mother and daughter legally changed their names to Kinney to escape Shaw. In 1956, Laura worked at Stanford University, researching genetics, she was actually close in discovering the X-gene. That's how Shaw tracked her down."

"Through her research. I remember tailing him to the United States," Erik spoke, deep in thought, "He went there for some three years, but I was late and he was already gone."

"A man named Satoshi Ishikawa was a Japanese ex-pat that moved to America in 1952, he became a physicist, worked at Stanford too. There, he caught Shaw's eye. Surviving the bombing at Nagasaki triggered his X-gene, gave him a mutation that could manipulate gravity. Satoshi was another direct source of mutation, Nagasaki was ground zero, literally one of the cradles for Shaw's new mutant race. It was 1957 when Shaw made his move, he was going to have his next big mutant weapon, one he could control from birth. He wouldn't repeat the mistakes of the past, the mistake he had with you." It seemed a lot of his problems begun and ended with Magneto. "Laura and Satoshi. They were the perfect candidates, she was his closest biological relative and while she wasn't a mutant,"

"Dear god. She was a carrier of the gene," Charles realised from his seat, "A blank slate."

Logan nodded, "He took their biological material, then made his Laura bring to term a genetically advanced mutant. Shaw _forced_ his own daughter to grow him a baby for his mutant war, isolating their biological material so he could choose which fertilised embryos could secure him mutant offspring. Sebastian Shaw _used_ his own flesh and blood and bastardised her for his own agenda..." Logan did not notice he had risen from his seat in agitation, he sat back down, forcing himself to regain composure. "Laura gave birth to Zoe Carolyn Kinney on the 28th of July, 1958."

Erik rubbed his face. He knew what kind of monster Shaw was, truly he stopped at no boundaries to achieve his goals. Mutant experimentation. Eugenics. He couldn't imagine doing that to his own kind. Not to mention his own family.

Logan continued his story, watching Erik closely. "They were under his thumb until 1963 when you put a stop to him. Laura and Satoshi who eventually fell in love moved to Pennsylvania and raised their daughter there. Satoshi died of brain cancer in 1966, when Zoe was eight years old. Three years later in 1969 Laura Kinney was found murdered in her home, believed to have died during an attempted burglary. Zoe disappeared. She isn't heard from again until Stryker and his men get hold of her in 1980, at least twenty years before we find the X-Men.

You think you're the only one left with scars, Erik? She's lived through hell, only to be passed down the hands of another maniac. Despite all that, in my future, she finds friendship, family and love. March 31st, 2001, Zoe Kinney marries Peter Maximoff in Westchester, New York. They were happy until 2012, when the Sentinel Program is reactivated. She lasts seven years until May 2019, we were on the mission and she stayed behind to save good people, she dies in Peter's arms. Her husband's remains were recovered the next week." Logan rubbed his head, his eyes had a far away look. "Don't you see? We have to change it, all of it. Or I'll lose the people I love again. This is bigger than any of us. These are the lives of millions upon millions of people. We are their last hope. This is my last chance."

* * *

 **" _But there was a time when each of us stood naked before the world, confronting life as a serious problem with which we were intimately and passionately concerned… Further back, there were times when we wondered with all our souls, what the world was, what love was, what we were ourselves." - T.H. White, The Once and Future King_**

* * *

 ** _A/N:_**

 _It's almost 2am here in Melbourne. There are commitments in the morning and I regret nothing. Actually, maybe ask me later._

I snuck in a little easter egg for those who's up for some hunting. I hope you've enjoyed this update. It really does a lot in terms of short-handing backstory without having to write an obscene and complicated sequence. Maybe I'll spin off of that, I don't know.

To my reviewers, thank you. Though you are few, it really made me happy to get a response so I dedicate this update for you. :)

 **TenebrisSagittarius** :Dark Matter is a real and existing theory in physics regarding our universe. Zoe's powers are varied though I doubt we'll get a definitive outline of her powers until after she's had some time controlling them and learning about it (most likely during X-Men Apocalypse). She needs room for growth and exploration. So that's a big something.

 **anonymouscsifan (guest)** : In the lines of another Quicksilver, "You didn't see that coming?" Sorry, I had to. You truly are, a fellow fan after my own heart. Orlando Bloom's Legolas was probably one of my first ever crushes. He gave me so much life at such a tender age. THAT SCENE IN TWO TOWERS WHEN HE SKATEBOARDS ON THAT SHIELD DOWN THOSE STAIRS WHILE SHOOTING ORCS! AGHH TOTAL SWOONAGE! Give me extended editions or give me death. Wow, I'm so glad people are actually responding to these. I've made friends!

 **~Rusty14~** & p **eggyscxrter** : You're welcome, ma cheries!

 **Calliope's Scribe:** I'm so glad you guys like it so far! I hope the progression of their relationship (though forced) will seem believable and natural.

ROCK ON, MY DUDES!

Have an opinion? I want to hear it. PM is always open for a chat, or leave a review if that floats your boat.

I do not own any characters you might recognise, they are the property of Marvel (and maybe Sony Pictures?). I do own my OC Zoe.

Many thanks! And happy fanfic hunting!

-HannahBananasxx


	5. Meet The Maximoffs

**Chapter Five - Meet the Maximoffs**

* * *

Peter had turned on the radio, he didn't know what kind of stuff Logan was listening to but it didn't surprise him when the station started playing Johnny Cash.

 _I hear the train a comin'_

 _It's rolling round the bend_

 _And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when,_

 _I'm stuck in Folsom prison, and time keeps draggin' on_

 _But that train keeps a rollin' on down to San Antone.._

 _When I was just a baby my mama told me. Son,_

 _Always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns._

 _But I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die_

 _When I hear that whistle blowing, I hang my head and cry..._

The windows were rolled down and it sent Zoe's hair flying like streamers against the gale. They were doing about 50 miles per hour and the stretch of highway ahead was wide and clear. The girl beside him threw her head back as she soaked in the rays of the sun, her eyes closed like a cat's.

Zoe seemed content for the moment, she hadn't felt this good in a long time. One arm was draped alongside the car door, her hand tapping to the rhythm of the guitar. The music itself felt very fitting of her predicament. She let it warm her. She didn't realise how much she missed the little things like the wind in her hair or the pluck of guitar strings.

Peter's mouth curled as his eyes drifted to her happy face. "So, you like Johnny Cash?"

Zoe shrugged, "Guess so."

Peter's forehead creased, "What kind music do you like?"

Zoe considered his question heavily, "Honestly, I don't know? I can't even remember the last time I listened to music. I've been in that hole for so long." she said, giving a strangled laugh.

Peter grew silent, it was awkward. He hadn't meant to open that can of worms. "I'm sorry. I didn't think-"

Zoe opened one eye as she looked back at him curiously, he didn't really know what to make of her. "No, it's- It's okay. I'm sorry for being so rude, you meant well. I guess my social skills have completely gone down the drain, as conversationalists go, I had slim pickings with Prisoner One, er, Erik...He wasn't really all that talkative." her lips pursed and she did sound apologetic, Peter wouldn't hold it against her.

"Yeah, looked that way."

"They, uh - didn't really like us talking much. Probably ruins the whole: ' _you're supposed to be in hell, you can't be making small talk_ ' deal." the girl rambled, not really know how to stop.

Peter's grip tightened on the steering wheel, he cleared his throat; it sounded pretty grim if you asked him, "Whatever, man. It just means I have a lot to catch you up on. When we get back to my place we could go through my records and we'll find what you like."

Zoe nodded faintly. "I have a feeling you'd have your work cut out for you."

"It'll be my pleasure," he said, his head tilting to her, "I do consider a thorough musical education a _very_ important subject that I'll be more than happy to teach." his eyes crinkled in a cute way as he began to ramble, "Dude, I'm going to introduce you to everyone: Bob Dylan, Bowie, Queen, The Ramones, Zeppelin, Floyd. It'll be crazy and all kinds of amazing at the same time." he said, driving with a smile.

The rest of their ride was spent talking about everything and nothing at all. Peter was polite enough to steer away from sensitive topics and she appreciated that effort by trying to be even more civil. He was friendly and open and curious but shied away from the topic before things got too deep. He was trying to make her comfortable - oh he was doing it for himself too since he wasn't all that great with emotions - but he did try to make her relax. At any rate, it would save them future accidents on the road. Truly, Logan had done nothing short of a miracle today. He had set her free and brought her a friend.

She tried to focus, tried to remember of any clues from her dreams that would help her in choosing the right course of direction. But nothing came, of course, it never did when she had tried in the past. It only happened when it happened, few and far between, and when she least expected.

It didn't sit well with her. There were too many variables in the air and it pulled her in a hundred different directions, though perhaps the strongest tug sat in less than a feet away in the driver's seat...

The only thing she had to go on was a gut feeling. A vague one. The boy felt all too familiar; there was something that just _fit._ Like a jigsaw puzzle that came apart, Zoe was in the tedious process of having to put everything back together, starting with the corner pieces. It didn't help that she didn't have a clear picture to go on.

She would just have to begin with _this_ corner piece. Like Logan, she was certain at least that Peter was someone important. Or he will be. Logan's indication did that much to assuage her fears.

It wasn't too long at all that they reached the car depot in the outskirts of New York and Peter returned their rental. The car was pretty sweet, and if say, he needed to _borrow_ something that cool later… well, he knew where the manager keeps the keys.

Zoe hid in a corner not far away, trying not to be seen. She watched as people walked by, totally oblivious to her presence; she saw girls in short skirts and midriffs, boys in t-shirts and bell-bottoms and so many platform shoes. She felt self-conscious and embarrassed (looking down at the harsh monotone grey of her uniform), she was very much out of place.

It had been three years. She had missed three whole years and the world just passed by her, _without a care, without a second look._ The thought sank to the pits of her stomach and made her feel sick.

She was numb when had returned, he scooped her up in his arms, her arms around his neck and their foreheads almost touching. He saw her unease and tried to reassure her, "It's okay, we're almost there. Just hold on tight." Zoe barely nodded before he zipped them to the front of a modest looking home.

They were back at the Maximoff home in Virginia.

"We're here," he says, putting her down gently. Peter had steadied her with a hand to her waist.

Zoe had suddenly looked daunted as Peter led her to the front door. She pauses at the threshold as Peter unceremoniously lets himself in loudly. "Ma! Wanda! I'm home!"

"Peter!" Magda Maximoff cries, "Where the hell have you been?! You left with those men without saying _anything_. I thought you were in trouble. How on earth did you think that was okay?" her hands were on her hips, her hair in disarray.

"You went out, I wasn't even gone for the whole day." he tried to say.

"Yes! To buy cigarettes - for like ten minutes - you were just gone!" His mother exclaimed, throwing her arms up.

Peter looked guilty, "Those guys from before just needed my help. It was urgent." he insisted, "But It's done now-"

Magda strode forward and held onto his shoulders, "Peter…" she trailed, searching his eyes

A loud sigh came from above, "Why bother, mom?" Wanda had stopped at the top of the stairs, she was in a pissy mood. "It's not like he cares whatever happens to him, to _us_." she said, glaring at her brother "Yeah, _why not_ just keep using your powers in the open? _It's fine_ , everyone knows we're freaks anyway." Her arms had crossed over her chest.

"There's something else we need to talk about," Peter says, ignoring his sister as he slowly drew his new friend inside the room with him, "Mom, we could really use you right now." He pulled Zoe closer.

"Who the hell is this?" Wanda demands, coming down the stairs. Her shoes making a large stomping as she made her way down the landing, "The hell is she wearing?" she continues. Without thinking, Wanda had grabbed the stranger's wrist.

At the contact, the girl had unconsciously repulsed Wanda with the dark bubble that surrounded her body, her long, dark hair floating for a second. The force sent the younger Maximoff staggering.

The stranger gasped, shocked at her actions. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

Wanda had spoken at the same time, " _She's-_ "

Peter nodded his head. "Like us." he turned to Magda, who had grown quiet. "Mom, she has nowhere else to go," he said with seriousness.

Magda had stepped back as she reeled from the shock, but nodded silently in thought, "Okay, but we need to discuss this first." Her hands that were clenched in front of her chest had dropped slowly. The woman faced the young girl, afraid to touch her. "...Honey, why don't you take a seat in the living room while I have a talk with my children." she said, speaking softly.

They were gone for about an hour, and considering Peter's own perception of time, it took an excruciatingly long while as he explained himself and _'the girl'_ as Wanda called her. She could hear the low murmur of voices as they talked. Zoe had sat in their living room, immobile, staring at the patterns on their Persian rug.

She looked around and found everything very familiar. Slowly but surely, she was emerging from her institutionalised self. She saw the pictures on the mantle, a trophy, and several medals on the shelf, china in the cabinets. It reminded her of the life she used to have, the way her mom would stick her poorly made drawings on the fridge or how her dad taught her how to fold origami in his spare time. It was a home. And it didn't occur to her until that moment how much she missed it.

She was looking at a photo of the Maximoffs at the beach. It must have been taken a few years ago since Peter still had not had his growth spurt and Wanda's hat looked too big for her head. She didn't hear Peter coming into the room until she coughed from behind her. Zoe immediately put the photograph back in its original place and blushed.

"Hi," she greeted meekly.

"Hey." he replied, "My mom and Wanda are still taking it over," he said, throwing his head back in gesture, "but I thought you'd want to change out of those clothes, you seemed pretty eager about it." Peter said shyly. He pushed the pile to her chest, "I uh, I haven't worn these clothes for years, I grew out of them. I thought-I mean, it's better than nothing right?"

Zoe straightened slightly, "Peter, I just want you to know that-well-you've already done so much for me. Even if I'm not allowed to stay, you've done more than enough, more than anyone has in years...Thank you." she swallowed, looking ready to cry.

He put his arm around her shoulders in a small comfort, "C'mon, I'll show you to the bathroom," Peter said, handing her a towel as well, "I doubt you like smelling like hospital soap. Use anything you need."

Once Zoe had stepped into the shower with actual hot running water, she wanted to weep. The hot water felt amazing on her skin and seemed to open up all her pores. She felt like she could stand there forever and just let the water wash away the last three years.

Peter Maximoff was _nice_. She pondered as she lathered her hair. _More than nice, he was sweet, he was kind._ He was quickly tearing down the walls she had built herself at an alarming rate. _It_ _wasn't hard,_ she realised, _liking Peter._ Just as she had thought before: _he just made sense._ Still, there was some hesitation in Zoe. She didn't want to bare herself completely to Peter, a boy she had just met. She had no way of knowing if his mother would even let her stay, or if she would pose too much of a threat to his family. She didn't know if she could risk her feelings for a friendship that may not last.

When she felt the water starting to turn cold she picked up the bar of soap did the best she could to try and scrub herself squeaky clean. When she finally emerged, the mirrors and the shower glass had all fogged over, her fingers were pruney and her skin was bright pink. The girl was about to put on Peter's clothes when she saw the discarded jumpsuit lying at her feet. It was a moment of hesitation, she didn't know whether to keep it or destroy the ugly thing. On one hand, she'd rather forget about her time kept inside the Pentagon, on the other, it was the only thing she now owned. She had begun folding the jumpsuit in a neat pile until thinking better of it and throwing it in the waste bin spitefully. She wasn't turning back now and she sure as hell won't be taken again. It sat there all crumpled and it gave the girl an immense measure of satisfaction at the sight.

Zoe had seen that Peter did not provide her any underwear (which to be fair was understandable) so she had to make do with washing the one she had previously worn in the shower and doing her best to wring it out before wearing them again. It was awkward as they were still damp, but happy it was clean. She really didn't bother with the bra, it would take longer to dry, she was somewhat pleased that her chest wasn't really all that noticeable in the shirt, it was a small perk, she guessed, that her breasts had not yet fully grown in. Or that was what she had told herself. Peter's clothes were well worn and soft. Turning to the mirror, she saw that while they were not big on her, it probably would have been too short for Peter's longer limbs. The ensemble composed of a black Rolling Stones shirt with a large red mouth and the tongue lolling out on the front as well as a pair of grey sweatpants that she had to roll up several times before it reached her ankles. They smelled slightly like him.

Peter had been waiting for her outside the bathroom door. He wanted to tell her the news himself, then his tongue swelled three times its normal size and his mouth was dry and he just stared, completely transfixed. Hormones were a bitch and he felt like a moron. There was a strange look on his face when she saw him, one that made her blush, she hid behind her stringy wet hair. A voice spoke from behind him, "Pick your jaw up off the floor dummy," Wanda said.

"Was the uniform really that bad?" Zoe asked.

"He's just not used to seeing a lot of girls, they usually run away screaming, right Pete?" his sister teased.

"Wanda!" he shouted, he was turning red from his neck to the roots of his silver hair.

"Easy, Pietro." she said mockingly, an evil glint in her eye. He was just so painfully obvious she couldn't _not_ try to mess with her twin. "Well, tell her then." she encouraged.

Peter, though frustrated by his sister, looked between the two before finally announcing to his guest a warmly supplied: "You can stay!" his arms lifted high over his head in an exaggerated motion and she broke into a wide smile. "Our mom said yes, you can stay as long as you need, long as you want. We'll take care of you."

From behind Wanda, Magda came into the room with her other daughter Lorna clutched to her hip. "We...don't have much but what's ours is yours." she spoke, smiling kindly. Lorna was watching them with a curious gaze, she wondered who the pretty girl was that Peter brought home and why she looked so sad.

Zoe rubbed at her neck, her face buckling. Her eyes became large and watery, her mouth wobbling. "I - I - I don't know what to say, or how to thank you." she stuttered, she couldn't believe it. "Are you sure I can - "

Magda crossed the threshold and slowly raised her hand closer to the girl, giving her plenty of time to see how the girl would react to it. When Zoe didn't move away, Magda had pulled her into a careful and tight hug. "Yes, we're sure honey. You don't have to be afraid of yourself anymore. We already know what you are." At this, Zoe lifted her head her brown eyes meeting Magda's like a skittish animal, "You're family, honey. I can no more be afraid of you than I am of my own children."

"It's official," Peter says, casually leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his lips pulled into a smirk. "Welcome to the family."

"So whaddya say Silk? I'll give ya a tour of chateau de Maximoff." Wanda said, even for her, she found her own actions seemed pretty out of character. It's almost as if the ice queen was beginning to thaw? _Ha. N_ _ever_. Wanda shook the thoughts away and put her arm around the smaller girl.

"But-" her brother tried to protest.

" _Go_ , you can see her later." It was a little hard trying to get him away, Peter was persistent and had no problems voicing his disapproval, but Wanda was even more stubborn and punched him in the arm.

"I guess I'll be in the den, if you needed anything Zoe." he tried.

" _I'm sure_." his sister threw in with a sickeningly sweet purr. With one final glare, Wanda shooed her brother away as to give them space and led Zoe around the place wasn't big so it was over in less than ten minutes. They arrived at Peter's messy room, leaving the girl there for a moment before returning with a small bundle in her arms.

Wanda offered it to her. "Peter mentioned you had nothing to wear -mom said to give you hers, but I thought mine would fit better…" she explained her smile, flashing white teeth.

Zoe's hands didn't reach for it but instead played with her hair. "I'm sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Wanda just shrugged, "No, I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault, I shouldn't have grabbed you."

"You didn't know." Zoe turned her gaze down to her feet.

The older girl shook her head. "You didn't hurt me, I was just surprised." Wanda said, trying to brush it off. "I wouldn't have expected Peter to bring someone home."

Wanda again offered her the clothes, to which Zoe accepted graciously. "Thank you."

"Gotta say, Silk, you must be something to have my brother on your side." the female Maximoff did not look away from her.

"S-Silk?" she said, scratching her head.

"Yeah, Silk, you know, with hair like that I could hardly believe you'd been doing some hard time at the Pentagon." Wanda joked, flipping her own hair. "So," she spoke, swiftly changing the topic, "Why _does_ Peter care so much about you, he's practically gushing praises." Though she had tried keeping her tone light, Zoe knew Wanda's mindset was far from it.

Zoe suddenly felt like she was being interrogated, "Peter's been nothing but kind to me." she explained.

"I don't care about that." Wanda narrowed her dark eyes, at her. Zoe noticed how they were exactly like his eyes-Peter's eyes.

It unnerved Zoe to see those eyes with that amount of venom directed at her, and it frightened her to no end to find how quickly the tension in the room could turn. She was at a loss for words, "I...don't know what you want me to say."

Wanda crossed her arms, "I care that my family is safe. I don't know what's been happening to you, and you know what, it's not as important as me protecting my family. So if you put any of us in danger, I swear, I won't hesitate to put you down if it means keeping them alive."

Zoe considered this, she couldn't exactly blame Wanda for being so defensive. But if Wanda couldn't see just how much causing any pain to come to her family was the farthest thing on her mind, then she will just have to prove her wrong. "I understand." Her hair had started to drip down her back and unto Peter's carpeted floor. She was tired of being cowed into submission, alas, there was nothing for it.

Wanda nodded stiffly, standing her ground. "Good." she said, "I'll send Peter in. You should get settled, you look like hell." she supplied as an afterthought.

Peter had come in not twenty seconds later, the air hissing behind him. He had found Zoe lost in thought. He carried their dinner in a small tray, not unlike he had done just hours ago. "Hey, what are you thinking about?" he asked apprehensively, setting the tray down carefully on the bed.

Zoe slowly blinked out of her daze. She had a lot on her mind right now. "Nothing." she lied, shaking her head, her lips gracing him a distracted smile. She played with the strands of her hair as she faced him.

Peter was not entirely convinced, his mouth was set in a tight line. "Uh huh." He had shrugged off his jacket, his t-shirt sleeves rolled up to the top of his shoulders.

The girl shook her head again, this time, the droplets hitting his chest, "Really." She looked tired, her pale cheeks, though refreshed, looked sallow. It made her pink nose look redder and her freckles stand out. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead and her locks stuck to her neck as the water drenched her shirt.

Peter decided to let it go. For now. He placed the towel around her shoulders, afraid that she'd get sick if she didn't dry off properly. She started towelling her head, vigorously attempting to dry it, before combing through with her fingers. "I got us dinner." he said, pulling her down to the floor beside him. He set the tray down between them, his back leaned against the side of the bed. "It's mom's meatloaf, it's alright. Go ahead." He drank the milk in his glass and started tucking in.

Zoe began eating slowly, her head more clear as Peter chatted with her. She watched him push his long hair back several times away from his face as he tried to eat. There was so much piled on his plate but was not surprised to see him devour it like a starved man. She wanted to be like that, she wanted to be relaxed and confident and have no cares. She didn't realise how intently she had been staring at the mole on his nose until he spoke up, "You gonna eat that?" he asks, motioning to the biscuits beside her plate.

"Oh, er, here." she said, handing him a couple.

"You sure?"

"I'm not that hungry." she answers.

"You're certain you're not just saying that because of the meatloaf?"

"It's not the meatloaf, Peter, it was fine. Just eat it." She laughed.

"Okay," he said slowly, dragging it out to give her some time to protest. When she didn't he had stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, and she let out a breath of giggles at the sight of his antics.

When they were done, Peter had taken the tray and put it on his desk. They sat on the bed together, the rest of the night winding down, her 'musical re-education' kicked off as they rifled through Peter's collection. Soon, the room was filled with music that filled her ears and warmed her heart. They had only just gotten to Elton John when Wanda had informed them that she was going to bed, her eyes lingering on the strange new guest before leaving. Whether Peter had seen this or not, he didn't address it but kept her entertained.

At the point when Zoe's eyes started to droop, Peter got off the bed and he merely turned down the music as he replayed the song on the record. He turned off the bedroom light, grabbed an extra pillow and settled on top of the covers. Zoe didn't question what he was doing as he positioned himself on the opposite end of the bed so that his feet were near the headboard next to the top of her head and her toes were grazing his shoulder. The music was lulling him to sleep as he rolled over, his back facing her. She wouldn't have been able to sleep all that well tonight anyway, and she preferred not to wake up in the middle of the night in unfamiliar surroundings, alone. Peter was trying to show her that he would be there for her, that she would be safe now from those who had mercilessly captured her for all those years. That she could trust him. He tried to make the situation less awkward by not even acknowledging what was happening, only knowing that they would both be more reassured and feel safer this way.

She knew it probably wasn't appropriate as she burrowed herself under the blankets, Peter having fallen fast asleep beside her, it was obvious nothing was going to happen (given the orientation of their bodies on the bed), yet the position remained intimate despite the circumstance. It only showed how comfortable they had grown in only a short time to be able to accept each other in such close quarters. The music soothed her and she knew that any moment now sleep would take her. She knew this was dangerous, but allowed herself this comfort, undeterred. _Just this once. Just for tonight._

It surprised her in the morning to find that she had drifted off into a pleasant and dreamless sleep, one she had not had in ages.

 _Hey kids, plug into the faithless_

 _Maybe they're blinded_

 _But Bennie makes them ageless_

 _We shall survive, let us take ourselves along_

 _Where we fight our parents out in the streets_

 _To find who's right and who's wrong_

 _Say, Candy and Ronnie, have you seen them yet_

 _Ooooh but they're so spaced out_

 _..._

* * *

 **A/N:** So here is the much awaited fifth chapter of Dark Matter! I'm so sorry it took this long. My final exams had just been suuuuuuuper hectic. Along with getting my results and subsequent university applications, it had really just been a massive whirlwind and so I decided to take a long, much needed break right after everything. To be honest, I'm still currently on my holidays visiting friends and family in the Philippines for Christmas and New Year til whenever so updates will still be irregular. However, I am still invested in this so please don't fret. I have more to share of this world.

So, did you like the Maximoffs? We'll hear more from them in the next couple of chapters so I hope you do.

To my reviewers, old and new thank you. Your loyalty and patience is astounding.

 **~Rusty14~** : I'm happy you loved the last update! Yes, she is Shaw's granddaughter, but where would our favourite heroes be without a messy backstory? While I do feel sorry for bringing misery upon my characters, it does make for an interesting read (as interesting as it is to write) and more importantly, discuss. I knew I had wanted to make a character that can keep up with out lovable speedster, or at least, in any case, stand up alone against the rest. I had earlier concept of her being a time traveller and the like but had seen it to be done already so I hoped you guys liked Zoe!

 **anonymouscsifan** : It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about the late update, I know two months is long overdue. I hope this chapter makes up for it though. I'm excited to see how VERY similar our feelings are towards Orlando Bloom. What did you think about Peter's family? Is it at all what you expected? Is it drastically different? I'd love to know what you think.

 **Demon Evernight:** Thanks for the review, and welcome to the family! I hope that you'll keep reading.

Song credits belong to Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" and Elton John's "Bennie and the Jets". If you had any song recommendations for this fic, or any other fic of mine, please message me or leave a review! A thorough musical education is good for the soul. :)

Have an opinion? I want to hear it. PM is always open for a chat, or leave a review if that floats your boat.

I do not own any characters you might recognise, they are the property of Marvel (and maybe Sony Pictures?). I do own my OC Zoe.

Many thanks! And happy fanfic hunting!

-HannahBananasxx


	6. What Happens in Paris,

**Chapter Six - What happens in Paris,**

* * *

 _Very superstitious, writings on the wall_  
 _Very superstitious, ladders bout' to fall_

* * *

Wanda Maximoff was a fearsome creature whose mouth seemed to be in a constant purse. She didn't like the unexpected, appeared to have an opinion on everything and was critical of everybody. Her freshly polished nails rapped on the diner counter, the colour was a glittering red most likely begotten from the blood of her foes. She drank her coffee black, without sugar and continued to stare at Zoe and Peter from across the booth. She eyed her brother's arm draped loosely on the back of Zoe's seat, his fingers inched ever so closely to her shoulder.

Zoe wore the clothes that Wanda had let her borrow, and while the striped short-sleeved shirt was not ill-fitting tucked into her corduroy mini-skirt, the waist had needed to be cinched in with a large black belt. Wanda was taller and curvier than Zoe and had the figure of a swimsuit model, yet another point as to what made her so intimidating. Wanda looked both as striking and as unapproachable as a movie star. But Zoe knew better, Wanda Maximoff was not impenetrable, and something tells her that the older girl's friendship could prove to be valuable. She at least did not want Wanda to hate her and forever be on her bad side, Zoe would always be grateful to the Maximoffs for taking her in.

The only sound made between the three of them was the tapping of Wanda's nails and the air that blew out from Peter's smacking lips. Having flicked through the diner menu, Peter finally puts it down and looks up. He sensed some discomfort on Zoe's behalf, finding it not uncommon for Wanda to have that effect on people. To her benefit, she wasn't cowed into fear by his sister, more like resigned to her examination. "Do you know what you're having? My treat," he asked her kindly, trying to distract from Wanda's blunt gaze. "Don't mind her, that's just her face," he added.

There was a TV tucked into the wall behind Wanda, the screen now and again turning interference had been cutting off the afternoon soap some of the patrons had been glued to. A waitress had grumbled something under her breath when she began to hit the side of it a few times. It took her several attempts before the picture finally came back on.

Zoe shrugged non-committedly, "er, I'll just have whatever you're having." Finally, she broke eye contact with the younger Maximoff. Looking out the window she gnawed on the inside of her cheek and tugged at the skin around her thumb. If she were being honest she didn't feel like being there. Outside, that is. With great reluctance, she was pressured by Peter into coming out to the diner with them just a half-hour before. Despite how much she hated herself for being so unfamiliar with it, there was just so much she wasn't used to. She hated to admit that a part of her missed Prisoner Oh-Two, and the routine she had with him at the Pentagon; there she knew what to expect and what to do. There, Zoe didn't have to be afraid of herself and the power that threatened to spill over, they would have taken care of it.

 _'Dark Matter'._ It was the term she had heard them use to describe it.

* * *

 _She swore she could see sounds swirling above her in shades of orange and red. Her head was swimming and her tongue felt the size of a car's tire. Pumped with enough tranquilizers to take down a person twice her size, her eyelids felt too heavy to open and she was drugged out of her mind. She could feel her mouth open and close, she tried to speak but was not even sure she was making any sound. Zoe could feel her mouth walking away, could see it waving goodbye. Her head lolled from side to side, her body placed on a sterile metal table._

 _She began to think that the men in white lab coats would never be finished with her tests. They were drawing more blood from her, the IV tube a red line connecting a girl to an empty blood bag. She didn't know why they needed so much for their microscopes, she thought that should have been the point, that they needed very little to understand could see pictures of her on various boards, diagrams, charts. Thre was lab equipment and medical equipment and monitors and wires. All of this just to find out how she ticked. They were no closer to finding it even after so many weeks. Don't they know she was not a clock?_

 _All of this just to find out how she ticked. She wondered when they'll stop. She wondered when they'll realise they'll never find the ticking. Don't they know that she was not a clock?_

 _ **I'm not a clock. I'm not a clock. Please. Why would I know how to tick? Not a clock. Never was.**_

 _Starbursts bloomed at the back of her eyelids, like the 4th of July fireworks her parents had taken her to see once. The three of them had lain on a picnic blanket that night, huddled up in each others' warmth as they sat by a lake. She wished she were there now, with mom and dad on the 4th of July, looking up at the fireworks display. Mom and Dad. She could hear them saying their names, just barely. Her head was now a fishbowl, and there was water in her ears._

 _"Ishikawa...Stanford...called it 'Dark Matter'..."_

 _"Dead now...no...we've only got his notes...can barely understand them,"_

 _"...We don't even know if it exists... never seen anything like it."_

 _"Very advanced..."_

 _"Monitoring her vitals...could be worse...responsive,"_

 _"Well keep testing! Whatever it takes...got to get it right... what...who cares? It's not as if she's going anywhere..."_

 _ **July 4th. Fireworks show. A lake. Mom and Dad. I'm shivering. Where's the blanket?**_

* * *

Peter had waved the waitress down who had just finished with the TV, immediately she began to jot down their order. Wanda grabbed her attention, "Tomato soup with the crackers please, and keep the coffee coming."

"And for you two?" the elderly waitress turned, looking bored.

Peter handed her the discarded menu, "We'll have your burgers with a side of fries. Oh!" he said with a jump as he turned to Zoe, "and you gotta try their milkshake, they're good!"

"Sure," Zoe nodded with a tight smile.

"You know what type you want? There's strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate." their bored waitress asked.

"We'll get all three, she'll try them all." Peter grinned.

"Peter," Zoe began to protest.

"It's fine. I haven't actually seen you eat for real," he said as the waitress walked away.

Zoe had been looking outside staring away into nothing for a few minutes when Wanda finally broke the silence. "So what's with you? You look like you're going to piss your pants." Wanda asked, with genuine concern in her voice.

Her brother's eyes grew large as he tried to admonish her, "Wanda!"

"What? It was annoying. And obvious. And she's fidgeting like crazy, it's like with you and that leg thing, I hate that." Wanda rubbed the handle of her coffee cup, downing the dregs of the warm coffee.

Zoe kept looking out the window, her eyes scanning the streets, "Being outdoors… is weird. Is there such a thing as reverse claustrophobia?"

"You shouldn't have let Peter force you into coming outside." Wanda said with a shake of her head before turning to scold her brother, "Pete, I told you not to, didn't I? What did I say?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just not used to - I mean, I didn't use to be... I just feel anxious. Like I'm walking down the street and they're not my real legs or my real feet, and my head's about to float away severed from my body… Like my brain hasn't caught up with the rest of my body - that I'm finally out." She leans her head on the glass of the window and forces her eyes shut.

"So that's it then," Wanda shrugged, "you're really screwed." she said with some finality.

Peter threw his hands up in exasperation, "Christ, Wanda! You're being a real bitch right now." his fine silver hair falling in front of his eyes.

Wanda's cheeks had flamed, "No, that not- that wasn't what I meant! I mean, they really did a doozy on her, of course it's all weird! Have you thought about how long they kept her there? Look how pale she is now." she had crossed her arms over her chest and looked away in embarrassment. "I told you we should have stayed home."

At this, Peter too was abashed, his eyes drifting to his lap, "I'm sorry, Zo. I didn't even think about - Look I'll take you home if you're not feeling well."

Zoe's head shook in the negative, her hands reaching for Peter's sleeve, "No, no, I'm good. I need to get used to this. I can't shut myself in forever."

Soon enough the waitress had come back with their order, taking two trips to bring them all their food. Three different milkshakes were placed in front of Zoe as Peter began to pick at his fries and Wanda raised her cup for another refill. The three of them thanked their waitress and silently started on their food, Peter didn't really know how to move one from their previous conversation and was thinking of something to say.

Zoe had grown quiet in reflection, she really was thankful for the Maximoffs, and yes, even Wanda. She could respect the need to protect her family, her mistrust, Zoe had felt, was entirely justified. She knew how easily the people one loved could be taken away.

She didn't realise that Peter had been talking to her just now, her eyes meeting his, "Huh?"

"I was asking if you thought the food was alright," Peter smiled. To his credit, she thought the food was really good and continued to sip her strawberry milkshake.

"I do like it, thanks," she said with an appreciative grin. Zoe decided to at least make more effort in trying to become normal. She liked Peter, a lot. She wanted to like the outside, she wanted to do all the things she missed out doing, she wanted to do it with her new friends. "This milkshake is awesome."

"I completely agree," Peter said, pushing the chocolate and vanilla milkshakes closer together and putting both straws into his mouth, combining the dairy-based drinks. He took one long sip and waggled his eyebrows at her, he so wanted to impress.

Zoe was caught off guard and snorted into her own milkshake while Wanda rolled her eyes and dipped crackers into her soup. She wanted to ignore it, but Wanda did get a warm feeling at seeing Zoe interact with her brother. She thought Zoe looked tired and sickly and too pale, Wanda could see how she changes when Peter was around; she looked fuller, more alive, more complete and real. He was bringing the girl back to life.

It had shocked Wanda to see how sweet and careful he had become with the girl, something only typically reserved for their family. She made him slow down, it was something that they found harder to do more recently. Normally, Peter didn't bother with girls like her, girls who were timid or straight-laced, or who under better circumstances probably would have been the popular type with her composure, soft exotic features and the way she incited some form of protectiveness from others. Girls that normally Peter wouldn't have the time of day for, not when he usually hung out with the burnouts and the flunkies. Still, maybe something good could come out of it, maybe Peter would actually start taking things seriously for once.

A loud gasp suddenly pulled them out of their reverie. The cook had poked his head out of the kitchen, his grill sizzling away and forgotten, the men at the bar had grown silent and a woman had gotten her rosary out of her bag and had clutched them to her chest. The waitress was now quickly raising the volume on the TV's breaking new footage, it looked like the Paris Peace summit had suffered some kind of terror attack. All eyes were stuck to the small television screen as the report went on, no one had found the ability to speak.

The report had cobbled footage together of the chaos that ensued: a blue woman had jumped out from a window before miraculously transforming herself into the exact appearance of a bystander, shots rang in the air, a man fights a large hairy beast in a nearby fountain, the crowds that had lined the building had dispersed and was running every which way in complete utter panic.

They could hardly believe their eyes to the information they had just witnessed. At once the diner erupted in chatter, voices overlapping, their plates abandoned.

"Oh my god, what was that thing?"

"Did you get a good look of those people? They _were_ people, right? That was real,"

"People? C'mon, they weren't people! Those were - things! Freaks of nature!"

"Please, that whole thing was fake."

"Fake?"

"Probably some idiot protesters who think they need to shock people to get noticed. You'll see, it'll blow over in a couple of days."

"Protesters? Protesting what, to continue the shitstorm in Vietnam? That conference was held to end the war. There wasn't any point in protesting it."

"Well Nixon doesn't exactly have a lot of fans, I tell you, as soon as that Kennedy boy died, this whole country's gone for the worst. Who knows, maybe they were there for those Vietnamese."

"Freaks, or, freaks in costume then, what have you. Freaks all the same."

"It was only a publicity stunt."

"Just wrong. All of it was just-"

"But suppose you didn't know though, you saw that blue person yourself, it turned into a woman, just an everyday looking woman. What if they're already hiding among us? How would you tell a freak apart if they looked like everyone else?"

"Hey pal, there's no need to get everybody in a frenzy, you're scaring the missus."

"Well good! She should be scared, we should all be! This is what we get for not paying attention, you know? I mean this has probably been going on for years, no one just wakes up suddenly a different colour one day. Who knows what kind of government experiments are happening right now? In Langley? In Arizona, or Colorado or the friggin' South Pacific? They could be dumping toxic chemicals in the water. Or worse, this could be the Russians…"

"Real or not, all I know is that I wouldn't want any of them near my kids. They're all probably gone in the head."

"They're dangerous, that's what. And they should stay away if they know what's good for them."

"They should be locked up!"

"Shouldn't be allowed to exist more like it, freaks!"

Peter, Zoe, and Wanda had looked to one another, not knowing what to do.

Mutants. The world had just gotten a glimpse of their everyday reality. The media had shined a light at those people whom for so long had had to hide in the shadows and suppress their abnormalities. Of course, humans were afraid of them, everyone is afraid of things they don't know, things beyond everyday comprehension. But that fear wasn't as well justified as the fear mutant kind had for humanity. It was a fear all three of them knew intimately.

Peter's whole body became tense, his mouth was curled into a deep frown as his fists balled up on the tabletop; across from him, his twin looked to be in a similar state and about to explode. He knew he had to get them out of there, if any of their powers acted up, especially Wanda's they would all be in an endless amount of trouble. Beside him, Zoe felt cold to the touch, the blood had drained from her face, her throat had started to close up and she was finding it hard to breathe.

When Peter shook her gently and broke her out of her daze, "Let's get outta here. C'mon, Zoe, c'mon." he whispered, looping his arm around her waist, the other he offered for her to hold on to. He slowly pulled the both of them to their feet and left a few crumpled bills on the table, not really caring about change.

Zoe, who was close to tears, nodded and followed him wordlessly. Wanda was already on the move, she opened the door with more force than was necessary, and walked out of the diner in an irritated huff. The rest of the diner patrons did not see them shakily depart the establishment, too engrossed in their mutant-hating discourse.

Wanda was angry, angrier than she'd ever been in a long time, her face became red and she had started to shake uncontrollably. The town had already had its own prejudices against the Maximoff twins, not that any of them had any definitive proof, but enough to cause suspicion. The Maximoffs were just too weird, and they seemed to leave a lot of strange occurrences in their wake. This was only the icing on the cake. She could barely register Pietro calling her name over the thoughts racing through her mind. As they turned an alley, she couldn't contain the bubbling rage inside her any longer, "What the hell do they know? Those narrow-minded, hateful, ignorant- they're - they're... EUGH! Just who do they think they're calling freaks?"

"I know, I know." Peter had murmured, though it was aimed more towards Zoe than Wanda as he tried to soothe the catatonic state she was in. He pushed her hair behind the shell of her ear and kept an arm around her shoulders as he steered them after his twin. "We just...have to be more careful now."

His words did nothing to suppress Wanda's heat, "Oh that's rich, Pete, coming from you." She spat, her mouth downturned in a grimace. She began ruffling her curly auburn hair in frustration, yanking at the strands. Wanda turned around to rant some more when she saw how unresponsive the younger girl was. Quickly, she ran over to them and placed a hand on the girl's cheek, "Shit," she says worriedly, not liking how cold she had gotten and started to rub up and down Zoe's arms. "You better run her home, Peter. She needs to lie down. Then come back for me, mom shouldn't be home for another couple hours and Lorna would still be over at Jenny's for dinner."

Peter eyed her for a moment and nodded, doing her bidding, he was gone quicker than a flash. Wanda just turned her face skywards, her anger had dissipated, but as soon as it had left another wave of worry came over her. No longer were there only two mutants residing in the Maximoff home, now there's three. Things would only just get harder from here on out. The world's axis was shifting, and she didn't know whether it would be for better or worse. "Shit." Wanda declared once more, this time, cursing the sky.

* * *

 _Very superstitious_  
 _Nothing more to say_  
 _Very superstitious_  
 _The devil's on his way_

* * *

 **A/N:** Apologies if this chapter was a little short, it's hard when you're trying to write a separate storyline and you couldn't find a jumping off point. Can y'all believe it's been a year and I've only pumped out six of these puppies? Nevertheless thanks everyone for reading and following and reviewing and favouriting and everything...just thank you! University really keeps me busy and I just hope I keep getting more and more inspiration to keep writing, I honestly have so many ideas and the hardest thing really is just to put them on the page. I started writing on this website because I wanted to see if I can do it and wanted to know how many people would actually bother reading my stuff or would be interested, so to those who've even just bothered skimming these, thanks again. I wish I were one of those people who update regularly and consistently write and write, hopefully, I can find the time to get my shit together, until then...

Jeez, these poor kids, amirite? Does it give me great satisfaction that I am essentially playing god and everything that happens to them - whether good or bad - is all up to me? Yes, yes it does. It's really the only kind of control I can exercise in any case.

To my reviewers, you're giving me the warm and fuzzies, truly.

 **RAM:** Sorry for making you wait this long! I bet nearly ten months wasn't what you expected. Shout out to ya!

 **Demona Evernight:** Let's see if I can finish this fic first, but yeah I can see Zoe shaking up Apocalypse's world. ;)

 **bbymojo, shika93:** thanks for the review you guys are too sweet! I did have an awesome time abroad and I hope you like this one too.

 **anonymouscsifan:** Ah, my dear. Wanda has a mind of her own, and not everyone we meet will only ever be just nice and accommodating. Truthfully, I kind of like her abrasiveness, because I think it makes people more real that way to have their own agendas and thoughts regardless of however challenging. Wanda for me at least is a great motivator in driving the story forward, no one should be a purely a black or white character, just like Wanda is not always gonna be mean... probably.

 **A Fellow Author:** Thanks for the review! I feel like writing is always a labour of love and very personal and that translates a lot into the emotionality of the characters. Zoe still needs time to come out of her shell, her imprisonment at the Pentagon has not been kind to her and she needs to recover from that. The Zoe we've seen from Logan's memories are evidently very different and the Zoe that we will come to know is still growing too. As for the fandoms I'm in, if you check out my profile that should clue you into some stuff; I have A LOT currently I'm heavily into Marvel but I do have so many more fandoms I want to write in including some musical theatre properties and other TV shows... that's all I'll reveal for now, I don't want to disappoint anyone by getting their hopes up. :/

MY DUDES, I LOVE YOU.

Song credits belong to Stevie Wonder's "Supersition". If you had any song recommendations for this fic, or any other fic of mine, please message me or leave a review! A thorough musical education is good for the soul. :)

Have an opinion? I want to hear it. PM is always open for a chat, or leave a review if that floats your boat.

I do not own any characters you might recognise, they are the property of Marvel (and maybe Sony Pictures?). I do own my OC Zoe.

Many thanks! And happy fanfic hunting!

-HannahBananasxx


	7. Tie a Yellow Ribbon

**Chapter Seven - Tie a Yellow Ribbon**

* * *

 _I'm comin' home, I've done my time_  
 _Now I've got to know what is and isn't mine_  
 _If you received my letter telling you I'd soon be free_  
 _Then you'll know just what to do_  
 _If you still want me_ ,

* * *

State College, otherwise known as Happy Valley, had been the centre of Zoe's universe. In her short fifteen years of life, it was the only place she cared to remember in full. There had been countless of times when she would return to it in the solace of her mind during her three years of government captivity, wondering often how unreliable and inaccurate her human memory was compared to the real thing; and now, as a free person she could not begin to describe the feelings that overcame her as she walked an old route to her childhood home.

For now, the streets of State College were mostly bare, though with the start of the new school year just right around the corner, the county was filling up more and more with each new day as both new and old admissions to Penn State come flooding back in town. In a few more days Freshers Week would begin and so would the infamous parties that came along with it, exactly the ones that she would remember hearing from her bedroom window that would last all throughout the night. Zoe could picture her mom loudly playing her jazz records with a glass of wine in hand, trying to drown out the sounds of the Freshers crowd, while her dad would flip through the paper in his robe and slippers like he couldn't hear a damn thing.

The leaves on the trees were in the midst of turning and some were even beginning to fall quietly down, carpeting the sidewalks in yellows, ambers, and reds. Zoe readjusted her scarf and pulled it tighter around her, the walk was fairly quiet except for the slight crunching of leaves underfoot and the passing of cars now and again. The block of houses that lined her street looked the same as she remembered, all neatly trimmed hedges and manicured lawns preceding four-bedroom homes.

Lost in thought she almost missed someone calling out her name. "Wait up!" the voice said, a new pair of footsteps approached her from behind. It was Peter, sweet, shy, accommodating Peter. Her Peter. The goggles that normally adorned the top of his head was replaced by a dark blue beanie, he was wearing the same silver jacket but swapped his band shirts for a faded henley and on his feet were much heavier boots with its laces fastened haphazardly around the ankle. The hands that took one of her own were covered in fingerless gloves, "What, you forgot about me already?" he asked her, not letting go of her hand.

"...Not on purpose," she said laughing. Peter just shook his head lightly.

"So," Peter said, his head motioning towards the houses, "which one is yours?" his dark eyes were soft, his nose tinged a light pink.

"Just a little farther down." came her reply. _Soon_ , she told herself, she would be home.

Peter and Zoe walked comfortably hand in hand until they reached a nicely paved driveway that led to a modest two-story home. The house they had arrived at was made in the colonial style, the dark shingles on the roof were the colour of charcoal and offset by the white panelling of the house, it had one chimney and the front door was painted a bright red. Deep in her heart, Zoe knew every inch of it; she knew exactly which step on the stair creaked, the right way to jimmy the handle to unstick the bathroom door and could place the precise spot where she spilled grape juice on the Persian and subsequently tried to cover it with a small potted ficus. The mere thought of standing at her front door felt so surreal to her, that even the mundane act of knocking seems beyond her imagination, inciting such a response that her hand trembled as it inched to the heavy red-painted door. But before she could manage the smallest of rappings upon the maple wood, she felt a cool draught coming from inside hit her face, with a gentle push, the door gave way to the quiet foyer of the home.

Peter stood behind her, and gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze, "Go on," he said. She could feel the comforting warmth that radiated from his palm before it slipped off her back. Zoe didn't know why she hesitated there at the doorway in the second she did, however, the feeling went as soon as it came. She quickly she stepped over the threshold and went inside, Peter as always, right behind her.

The day was overcast and while the curtains were not drawn, there wasn't a tremendous amount of natural light that filtered through the windows, tinting the space a cool grey. All the same, Zoe still recognised the layout of the furniture of this old was so familiar and smelled just the same. The shoe rack still held her old shoes to her immediate right with the coat hooks just hanging above. The polished wooden staircase was directly ahead leading upstairs just before the hallway that opened up to the kitchen and dining room.

Looking to her left, an archway revealed her parents' study, gravitating to it like a moth to a flame, Zoe proceeded to the study without another thought. The room contained volumes shelved high to the ceiling and she went around the perimeter of the room just feeling the covers of those books on her skin, fingers flying to stroke the spines of her parents' treasured collection. There was never any order to it, as far as she could tell, though maybe it was something only her dad could have understood; she remembered fondly how meticulous he was, he didn't even let his wife clean his half of the study, preferring to do it himself. Two desks lined the left and right side of the space, one desk faced the window, the other faced a Fats Waller poster, two halves that artfully represented just the type of people her parents were.

As a young child, she would join them in this room, her father would reserve for her their discarded paper, he kept it in a neat stack so that she would always have something to draw on. She herself couldn't count the many hours she spent scribbling away with her box of Crayola at her dad's feet. On his desk she found a thin scientific journal, worn down on the edges, smooth to the touch, smelling far older than her and darkened with age; Zoe held it gently on her cheek for a minute as if trying to seek out her father's warmth. Peter rummaged in a file cabinet in the corner, beyond her line of sight, not really knowing what he was looking for or why he was looking, he just did. Carefully, Zoe slid the journal back in its place, turning when she heard a clacking of heels coming from above.

The two of them made for the hallway, waiting to meet the new interloper. Slowly, and with great leisure, a tall figure descended the stairs; one hand grazing the railing, dark-blonde hair pulled aside to one shoulder, the statuesque figure had a pair of light eyes that she immediately recognised as it met hers. She could hardly believe what she saw, "Mom?"

"I've been waiting for you, darling." she said with a mile-wide smile, "I'm so glad you're home!"

Zoe in an instant ran to her, clinging to her mother's slight frame she began to weep with happiness. With a quivering chin, she barely found the words to speak without choking. "Mom, what happened to you? I-" thought you were dead, she wanted to say, though failed.

Beyond confused, Laura had shushed her sweetly, "You must be starved. Why don't you let mom fix you something to eat? " she said, leading her calmly through to the kitchen.

"How are you here" despite her protestations Laura had helped her sit at the dining table with a little too much force for mere enthusiasm. Zoe saw that the table was set, and more than that it was set for three, almost as if she were expecting them.

"You must have had quite the adventure since you were gone, must have been so scared too. Well, why don't I help you forget about it?" Laura asked, running her palms down her shoulders trying to assuage her daughter's anxieties.

It wasn't possible, Zoe had thought. The last she had seen of her mother was in that very kitchen; lying face down on the linoleum, bleeding out through the bullet wounds to her heart. She had been waiting for her child to come home from school. "You're not real, are you?" She didn't wait for the reply, Zoe already knew the answer.

The mother's soft touch had turned to ice, and her grip had hardened. Zoe tried to seek her mother's eyes, though found only a dark shadow cast over Laura's visage. Zoe tried to rise from her spot but could no longer move her limbs, she peered down to see her arms and legs strapped to the chair with thick leather straps. She learned all too quickly that the more she panicked, the tighter her restraints became.

The voice that once belonged to her mother, had begun to morph, distorting to a lower, more sinister register, the tone was clipped, clinical, detached. At once a frightening sight loomed over her: an evil entity with many faces and had the body of a man. She knew instantly that they were here for her, to run experiments, to gain knowledge behind her unique mutation. "Hold still," it ordered. Her confusion dissipated into raw terror, her breathing had accelerated into short, shallow breaths. "This will go faster if you didn't struggle."

Zoe began to whimper, remembering how painful their routine tests were, she hated every single moment of them and didn't want to go through it again. "No, no, please don't! It hurts, please!" she begged, her objections falling on deaf ears.

"You'll only hurt yourself if you continue this way. Be a good girl and it will be over soon."

"No! No! Mom?" she was growing ever more hysterical. "Peter? Peter!" however the boy had vanished and her calls were cut off by a sudden fit of coughing. That coughing had soon turned into choking and before she knew how they got there, she was suffocating from the long protruding tubes that had sprouted down from the base of her throat and out the opening of her mouth. She could feel her brain throbbing with the lack of oxygen as her nails had dug into the arms of the wooden chair. Zoe could not tell, but in her agony, she had begun to rock the chair she was in, the seat creaking under her agitated body until finally she had forced the unsteady thing to tip over with her still strapped to it.

Anticipating the jolt from the fall, she thought it was weird that it did not come. Gone was Happy Valley and her mother's kitchen, as if they were all just swept up by a great gust of wind, because the next thing she knew she was outdoors, feeling weightless and without pain.

In the arms of her loving husband, she mad peace in knowing that she would be dead in just a few short moments. Her only regret was leaving him to go on without her. Still, amongst the sea of towering firs, she found her fears carried away. How wonderful it was of him to have brought them here, she mused, and what a fitting place to die.

Slowly, silently, the first snowfall began to make its way down to earth in a lazy, meandering fashion. It fell on her nose and eyelashes, as well as the exposed skin of her torn suit. She could see her husband's breath in the air, yet she didn't even feel the cold anymore.

Looking up, she saw the heavens completely bare, the stars, it seemed, found a new dwelling within her husband's eyes; it made his tears sparkle as they hit her face like precious diamonds. He caught the weak hand she was raising to him and held it to his cheek. She kept thinking that she adored this man, adored how his silver hair was beautiful in the moonlight and the way he whispered words of love for her in her ear. "But you're mine. Don't go," he pleaded quietly. She almost laughed, didn't he know it was futile to do so? It wouldn't be much longer now.

"No tears, Pietro." she said, "I love you, but I don't want my passing to lead to yours, whatever you do, don't end it because of me.'' That was what she wanted to tell him, what she had to tell him and what he had to hear. It was important. He had to have heard her. He needed to. Surely he must have?

In her final seconds, Zoe took comfort in the snow. Blanketing everything, it will bury that ugly crater and the remains of the Sentinel plant, it will bury her body, her love, her hate, and soon it will bury the Black Forest too in perfect whiteness.

* * *

Zoe Kinney awoke trembling in a cold sweat. Without Erik to share her pain, she felt more alone than she did in her tiny prison cell, and she began to cry. It was then that she realized that this was the first time she allowed herself to do so without holding anything back. And though she felt the crushing depths of her loneliness and the sinking weight of her sorrow, she relished in once again knowing the full expression of her feelings. She didn't have to force herself to be strong. There, in the darkness, surrounded by Pink Floyd LPs, she was finally free, and she was going to make oceans from her tears.

The remnants of her dream had not been forgotten, and though she could not make sense of it, it lingered like foul smoke in the air. The images were burned into her mind; blood on the linoleum floor, a frozen forest, a golden city ascending from the sand, and a distant voice calling out into the void,

 _"En Sabah Nur"._

* * *

 _Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions_  
 _I keep my visions to myself,_

 _..._  
 _Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?_  
 _Dreams of loneliness,_  
 _Like a_ heartbeat, _drives you mad_  
 _In the stillness of remembering, what you had,_  
 _And what you_ lost

* * *

 **A/N:** I thought I would give you guys a new chapter! To be honest, this was both a big challenge and a lot of fun to write, I surprised myself because I've had this in the works for a while but never had the inspiration to finish it, so even I didn't anticipate how it was going to end. I hope you didn't think this chapter was too confusing, so enjoy it! On a side note, I've slightly tweaked Chapter One of this fic to better coincide with the details I've added here.

 **MageVicky:** Thank you for your reviews! As per my plans about the fic, I'm only really wanting to use DoFP to develop my OC, so this fic will diverge from that narrative to focus on Zoe before she eventually becomes a full member of the X-Men. If I ever do finish this story and get around to a sequel, Apocalypse should center around her coming into her powers and perhaps mastering it. There you go, ask and you shall receive.

Song credits go to Tony Orlando's "Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree" and Fleetwood Mac's masterpiece: "Dreams" (I can't express how obsessed I am with this song). If you had any song recommendations for this fic, or any other fic of mine, please message me or leave a review! A thorough musical education is good for the soul. :)

Have an opinion? I want to hear it. PM is always open for a chat, or leave a review if that floats your boat.

I do not own any characters you might recognise, they are the property of Marvel (and maybe Sony Pictures?). I do own my OC Zoe.

Many thanks! And happy fanfic hunting!

-HannahBananasxx


End file.
